


Affection

by Snailhair



Series: Solo [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Coming Out, Confessing Feelings, Daddy Issues, Dean dealing with daddy issues, Destiel - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Humor, Italian Food, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Rimming, Slight feels, Smut, Top Cas, mentions of John Winchester - Freeform, sex in public places, slight angst, the beach, warm and fuzzy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-29 23:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8509126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailhair/pseuds/Snailhair
Summary: As a dreaded conversation with Bobby draws near, Dean attempts to deal with the emotions he feels when it comes to Cas, his family, and his past. (Part three of the Solo Series.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Welcome to part three! (Yay!) :D Before you read, I would just like to inform you that John Winchester is dead in this fic. I imagined that this fic actually takes place around season 5 or 6, so everything that happened in canon has carried over, including John's death. Any mentions of him from Dean's POV are based on what he THINKS his father would say. (you'll see what I mean.) Also, the song you will encounter in this chapter is "Time of the Season" by the Zombies. ;) 
> 
> Thank you all so much for coming this far! I hope you enjoy! :)

Dean lifted the trunk hatch of the Impala and propped open the lid of the false bottom inside. The Winchester collection of firearms laid in front him like a feast. Most of the guns were laying crookedly across each other in a haphazard manner. A smirk grew along the hunter's face as he reached down and picked up the rifle with the longest barrel. A familiar dirty thought flashed in his mind as soon as the metal was in his tight grip – of chrome, angelic dick.

Dean turned to show his smirk to Cas, who was standing close by with his hands in his coat pockets. In a way, Dean felt a little disappointed that the angel couldn't see or hear his thoughts. Because Dean was currently imagining the gun in his hand as a giant metal dick, solidly hard and warm to the touch. But as much as Dean knew the thought would get the angel going, Cas still couldn't hear it. And Dean sure as hell wasn't gonna say it out loud, because Sam was standing with them at the trunk.

The younger brother took a large bite from his burger while he half-sat on the edge of the Impala bumper. The three of them were stopped beside the highway at a roadside diner for a quick bite. The open gravel parking space was vacant except for them, and a thin forest area stretched on behind the building. It was just too bad Sam was with them, because if it was only Dean and Cas -

“Um, you okay, Dean?”

Dean snapped himself out of his vulgar thoughts at the sound of his brother's voice. He looked at Sam next to him, who carefully took another bite of his sandwich. Although Sammy's question was genuine, his expression was playful. God, Dean hated seeing that smug grin on Sam's face. The guy was so damn pleased with himself for finding out about Dean and Cas's intimate relationship all on his own. The smirk faded from Dean's own face as he recalled why they were even here in the first place.

“No, I'm not,” Dean spoke gruffly, reaching down to get a polishing rag from inside the trunk, “And do you wanna know why, Sam?”

“Oh, God,” Sam grumbled, knowing Dean was about to let him have it. Again.

“Because we're headed toward Bobby's house, so that _you_ can collect your precious bet money, you giant ass,” Dean hissed, narrowed his eyes.

“How many more times am I gonna have to say 'I'm sorry'?” Sam sighed.

“Until I get the ingrained image of Bobby's look of disappointment out of my head,” Dean spat, feeling a rock trying to manifest in his gut.

Dean had already convinced himself that Bobby was gonna give him that look; the one that parents gave their kids when they're 'not angry, just disappointed.' How was Dean going to explain – to the man he had always looked up to – that he was banging an angel? Or rather, _being_ banged _by_ an angel? A sudden chill ran across Dean's skin, leaving goosebumps. God, he was dreading the conversation with Bobby more than anything.

“Who said he was going to be disappointed?” Sam asked quietly.

Before Dean could voice his lengthy explanation, Sam's cell phone interrupted the conversation. The younger Winchester took a deep breath and placed his burger to the side before reaching into this pocket to retrieve it.

Dean took a deep breath of his own while Sam began talking on the phone. Dean didn't want the stupid reminder of uncomfortable confessions to kill his current buzz. The man took the polishing rag and began to rub the dirt off the barrel of the gun in his hand. Dean glanced sideways at Cas again, who was still standing close by, as he caressed the entire length of metal in his grasp. The angel couldn't hear Dean's thoughts, but maybe the guy could read his actions instead. Of course, Cas wasn't good at picking up subtle hints, but Dean was gonna try his damn hardest to get the erotic message across.

“Who is this?” Sam asked to the phone, standing up from the car, “... Oh! Right, yeah. I remember... That's good. How's business?”

While his little brother talked and began to wander around the open gravel parking space, Dean took the opportunity to lock eyes with Cas's. He sat on the very edge of the bumper and positioned the butt of the gun between his legs, making it jut out from between his denim-covered thighs. The man's smirk slowly returned while he stroked the barrel of the rifle, enjoying the tiny look of confusion on Cas's face. Dean was kind of being over-dramatic with the stroking; bringing his hand way up to slide it all the way back down, pretending it was an enormous dick.

Once Sam's back was fully towards them, Dean's smirk widened. He gathered a bit of saliva in his mouth, keeping his eyes locked with Cas's baby blues, and spit onto the metal shaft. The confusion instantly melted away from the angel's precious face afterward, leaving stark realization as he watched Dean's hand buffing the barrel of his gun. Oh, yeah. Cas definitely knew what Dean was doing now. Dean had finally reeled Cas's mind into the gutter with him. Where it belonged.

They held this stare for a few moments, searching each others' faces while Dean rubbed the gun in an obscene manner. Dean could feel himself getting hard from the simple motion of stroking, even if he wasn't touching an actual body. And it was apparent that it was affecting Cas too, turning his eyes intense and quickening his breathing.

“You do?... That sounds pretty nice... Yeah, I'm sure Dean and I could come down for lunch... Where did you say it was?” Sam kept talking, interrupting Dean and Cas's tense stare with his voice and wandering around the space.

Cas's eyes flickered away from Dean's to briefly glance at Sam before returning his stare. Dean heard the faint sound of music suddenly coming from behind him inside the Impala. What just happened? Did the radio just turn on by itself?

“He – hello?” Sam said loudly, “Are you there?... Tom?... Hello?”

Dean's hand slid to an abrupt halt as Sammy turned to give him an odd look.

“I can't hear him,” the kid explained, holding the phone away from his mouth, “The signal is going out or some -”

“Perhaps you should try standing on that hill,” Cas interrupted.

Dean and Sam both looked toward the angel, who was pointing behind the diner. A few yards away through the trees was a large mound of ground. Dean turned his eyes back to Cas, wondering what he was doing. The angel had something up his trench coat sleeve for sure.

“You can acquire better reception there,” Cas explained, his tone flat.

Sam glanced back at Dean and shrugged.

“Okay, I'll be right back,” he said, starting toward the woods with his giant strides.

Dean watched his little brother walk off as he stood up from the trunk with surprise. Really? Sam was gonna take Cas's advice just like that? He wasn't suspicious at all? Maybe it was an important phone call or something.

Just as Sammy's plaid shirt disappeared into the trees, Cas was suddenly at the back of the car with Dean. The angel quickly grabbed something from the trunk – too fast for Dean to see what it was – before slamming it shut and grabbing Dean by the arm to spin him around. The man didn't even have time to gasp in a breath of air before Cas shoved him down, pinning his chest to the smooth trunk. The rifle fell out of Dean's hands with the quick motion and it clacked onto the hard gravel at his feet.

Dean blinked several times, feeling his heart start to race. The angel behind him was tugged the back of his pants down; demanding hands forcing the fabric all the way to his ankles. Dean could feel cool air suddenly breezing over his exposed ass cheeks. His quickly hardening dick was pressed against the warm edge of the trunk. A slight panic came over Dean as he looked up to see the rush of the highway only a few yards beyond the front of the car. Holy shit, what if one of the passing drivers glanced over and saw them like this?! What if one of the diner workers waltzed outside for a smoke break and saw Dean bent over the trunk with his ass sticking out?!

“Cas,” Dean gulped, feeling the angel's fingers brushing against his cheeks as he undid his own pants, “What the hell are you doing?!”

“You were asking for this, Dean,” the angel purred, sounding as determined as ever, “Were you not?”

Dean panted, causing his breath to fog the black metal of the Impala. Shit. Yeah, his actions were a bit dirty. But he didn't think that Cas would catch on so damn fast. Dean was just teasing the guy, not telling him to bend him over and drill him beside the highway!

“Cas, I was just -”

Dean's voice caught in his throat as he felt warm liquid being poured between his cheeks. It ran all the way down his crack; dripping from the back of his balls and running down the insides of his legs. Dean felt his own hole clench at the sensation. What the hell was Cas pouring on him? He struggled to look over his shoulder and see, but he wasn't flexible enough. Once Cas was apparently comfortable with the amount of liquid, the angel reached forward and sat a jug on the trunk by Dean's face. Dean eyed the ancient container, feeling his face turn pale.

“Holy oil?!” he gasped in shock, “You're using _holy oil_ as _lube_ , Cas?!”

Cas didn't reply. Instead, he launched a finger inside Dean's tight opening without warning. Dean groaned a little at its sudden entry, involuntarily clenching around it. The music in the Impala seemed to turn a little louder at his outburst. How the hell did that thing turn on in the first place? The angel's finger slid quickly in and out of him while a song from the 60's played. With just a few more thrusts of Cas's fingers, Dean could feel the guy pressing the head of his dick to his hole.

Dean balled his fists against the trunk of his Impala, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt himself taking the whole erection. Damn, Cas always felt so huge at first. Sensual 'ahhs' were part of the song playing in the background, igniting the air with sexual sounds. Dean let out a small ' _mmm,_ ' as Cas began gently sliding in and out of him.

... _and let me try with pleasured hands, to take you in the sun to promise lands..._

Dean groaned as the song serenaded their sex. Maybe Cas was onto something when he chose the holy oil. It was probably the best lubricant they had used yet. The angel's hard shaft was easily slipping in and out of Dean's hole, pounding with enough force to rock the whole car. Dean braced as best as he could, pressing back into Cas's thrusts. More cars whooshed by on the highway in front of them, briefly drowning out the 'ahh's of the song. But the music kept playing.

… _What's your name?_... _Who's your daddy?_...

Dean's eyes opened at the sound of the erotic question. He recently had a dream in which Cas asked him that very same damn question, and it brought back all the arousal he felt at the time.

“Ah, Cas,” Dean whimpered, reaching back to touch the angel's tense, moving thigh, “Harder.”

Cas complied and thrust deeper into him. The car rocked even more fiercely with the rough movement. Dean finally started to lose himself in the moment; letting go of his fear of prying eyes and giving every part of himself over to Cas. Tiny moans were coming from the angel's mouth too, as his hand braced flat on Dean's arched back. Dean wanted so badly to flip over and watch Cas go over the edge; to watch his eyes roll back and face tighten with pleasure. Because he knew Cas was already close just from the way he was picking up speed.

“Gnah, Dean,” Cas groaned, his deep voice rumbling, “You feel... so good.”

Dean held in another high-pitched whimper. God, he loved hearing Cas talk like that. It always seemed to go straight to his cock. Dean's dick was rock hard by now and rubbing against the lower half of the trunk with the angel's every thrust. Both of Cas's hands were suddenly on Dean's hips, his fingertips pressing bruises into Dean's tender flesh. Dean moaned a little while he clung to the trunk. The movement was providing just enough friction for his own cock to feel.

“Ah!” Cas shouted, his voice mixing in with the music, “ _Dean!_ ”

Dean kept rocking back onto Cas, knowing damn well that the angel was pulsing inside him. Sound of Cas's approval tumbled from his open mouth and his hands clung desperately to Dean's hips. Dean knew that he, himself, was going to go off at any second. The man quickly reached down to stroke himself with some leftover oil; his tight fist moving at the speed of light.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Dean moaned, “ _C – Cas!_ ”

Dean's cock pulsed in his hand, shooting semen all over his car's license plate. He was instantly seizing in his orgasm, curling against the trunk and blubbering moans and whimpers. His free hand remained latched to the angel's hip behind him the whole time, holding on as tight as he could. Damn. Nothing in the world ever got him this high before Cas. No one had the ability to sky-rocket him to an orgasm like Cas could...

Dean carefully let go of his spent dick and relaxed against the trunk. The ancient jug of holy oil blurred in front him as he tried to get his sight to focus. His thoughts eventually returned, making him painfully aware of the fact that he and Cas had just banged it out on the side of the highway in broad daylight. But the strangest part was that Dean didn't care. He chalked it up to the after effects of his orgasm. Nothing mattered when Cas made him feel this good.

Cas's arms carefully snaked their way under Dean and scooped him up from the car, trying to put him back on his feet. But Dean fell back weakly against the angel, unable to even hold his head up. He held onto Cas's arms around him to stay upright.

“Geez,” Dean panted, turning his head to meet Cas's eyes, “What... What the hell was that? That came... out of nowhere.”

“You said I could have your body any time I want,” Cas reminded innocently.

Dean gulped. Oh shit. Did he really say that? A smile slowly returned to Dean face, though. At least Cas made sure they were alone before banging his brains out...

“I'm... I'm guessing you had something to do with Sam's phone?” Dean assumed.

“Yes,” Cas answered, his blue eyes falling to stare at Dean's lips, “I disrupted the reception, though I accidentally turned the radio on as well, by mistake. Wavelengths of sound are difficult to control.”

Dean nodded. He could tell Cas was easing closer because he wanted to kiss. Dean glanced around, making sure there weren't any eyes were watching, before finally bringing their lips together. He tongued the angel as best he could, turning in his arms to do it properly. Kissing Cas was so much better than kissing anyone else. There was so much more to it; so much heat and emotion. What was the secret ingredient that made it feel so damn good?

Cas hesitantly pulled away to take a few gentle breaths. Dean stared at his ocean blue eyes, still feeling loopy from his recent climax. With the raise of the angel's hand, Dean's pants were suddenly back up and buttoned. He glanced down at his lower half, wondering how Cas was able to do that so flawlessly.

“Sam is returning,” Cas explained, taking a step back.

Dean tried to act as normal as possible as he turned toward the trees to watch for his brother. Only a minute or two later, Sammy came walking back toward them, looking at his phone. Dean took deliberately slow breaths, clearing his expression of all emotion. He tried his best not to look like he had just had an amazing orgasm at the hands of the angel beside him. Luckily, Sam seem oblivious.

“Hey, do you remember a guy named Tom Padrino?” Sam asked, strolling up to the back of the car.

Dean blinked, his mind still fuzzy from sex.

“Uh... Am I supposed to?” he replied.

“You know, big Italian guy? Owns the restaurant just a few miles from here? We helped him deal with that ghost problem a few months ago?” Sam reminded.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said, “What about him?”

“He wants us to have lunch with him tomorrow... Uh, why is that jug out?” Sam blurted.

Dean followed his little brother's pointing finger to the trunk, where the old jug of holy oil was sitting. Dean's heart pounded as he met eyes with Cas. Oops. They had forgotten to put their lube away. The angel looked just as shameful as Dean felt.

“I was... Just making room for stuff in the trunk,” Dean glossed over, hoping to change the subject, “But you said he wants to have lunch? That's good.”

If the Winchesters had to stick around town for a couple of days, that meant Dean's date with Bobby would be postponed. And Dean was more than willing to put off _that_ uncomfortable conversation for as long as possible. Sam nodded.

“Yeah, so should we check into a motel room for the night?” he asked, stepping toward the car doors.

Dean glanced up toward the sky, seeing that it was turning pink-orange with sunset. Man, was it really that close to dark already? The older brother gave younger a nod and watched him get in the car before turning to Cas. The angel was placing the holy oil in the trunk, laying it among the guns and knives. Dean smirked as he inched close to him to talk quietly.

“I can't believe you used that, Cas,” Dean grinned, “It seems kinda wrong.”

“You are probably right, Dean,” the angel said, shutting the trunk again, “My father would not approve.”

A sudden streak of abnormal fear shot through Dean's entire body at the sound of Cas's words. The mention of 'father' made his blood run cold. It was one thing if Cas's father knew about their relationship... but it was something entirely different if _Dean's_ father knew. The image of John Winchester suddenly manifested in Dean's mind; one of him wearing a look of angered shock. The look he would most definitely have on if he ever found about what Dean was doing with Cas...

 _My father would not approve_.


	2. Chapter 2

Castiel met eyes with Dean once more in the rear-view mirror of the Impala. The angel could sense that something had shifted in the man's demeanor just before they left the diner. Dean's happiness seemed to have dimmed. His smile was a bit more forced than usual and he didn't seem to pay any attention to his younger brother, even when Sam was speaking to him. Castiel knew something was bound to be plaguing Dean. He just didn't know what it was.

“She's starting to sound kinda wheezy,” Sam mumbled, patting the dashboard of the vehicle.

At the sound of Sam's voice, Dean's eyes broke away from Castiel's and flickered forward again as he pulled into a motel parking lot.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed to his brother, “I think she needs an oil change.”

Sam simply nodded, not seeming to notice the tiny croak in his brother's voice. Castiel wondered why Sam could not see Dean's distress. Was Sam just not paying attention? Or was it possible that Castiel had become so close with Dean that the angel could sense differences that even Sam could not? Castiel eyed the back of Dean's head from the backseat, feeling pleasantly surprised. He hoped that they truly were so close...

After the Winchesters purchased a room, Castiel accompanied them inside, where he watched them go through their nightly routine. Cas noticed that Dean was perpetually glancing at him as he moved, perhaps making sure that Castiel was still there; as if the angel might disappear without cause. Dean's actions seemed to be less playful than usual, resembling mechanical motions. He was behaving very seriously now, and the stark difference made Castiel's stomach ache. The angel stepped closer to Dean to talk lowly away from Sam.

“What's the matter, Dean?” Castiel asked, hoping he could remedy the situation.

Dean briefly leaned to the side and peered around the angel to see his brother standing far across the room. Once he saw that Sam was out of hearing range, Dean leaned back to meet eyes with Castiel. His emerald stare seemed burdened with emotion.

“Nothing,” he mumbled, tossing a shirt inside his duffel bag.

It seemed that Dean was refusing to let out his emotions; holding all of his deep thoughts and feelings captive inside himself. Castiel was used to this sort of behavior from Dean; the man who prided himself on being emotionally disciplined. But perhaps Castiel could try to reach the conclusion on his own.

“Do you require physical contact?” the angel guessed, remembering the animalistic urges Dean had recently displayed, “Does your body long to be penetrated again? Are you wishing to be filled with my seed, Dean? I can give it to you...”

A bright shade of red seemed to instantly rise on Dean's face. His green eyes widened as he once again glanced around Castiel to see his brother.

“Cas,” Dean grumbled, sounding embarrassed, “Don't say shit like that while Sam's here.”

“I mean it, Dean,” Castiel continued quietly, placing his hand on the man's soft shoulder, “If you need me to stimulate your anus with my erection -”

“Cas!” Dean hissed, reaching up to cover the angel's mouth with his hand while his face grew even redder, “Shut the hell up!”

As Dean and Castiel stared at each other, they both heard the sound of footsteps heading across the room. The angel saw Dean's wide eyes move beyond him; watching Sam walk from one side of the room to the other. Dean's hand remained placed over Cas's mouth; the soft skin of his palm pressing against Cas's lips. The gentle creak of a door opening filled the room, followed by the quiet snap of it closing.

Dean's eyes returned to Cas's and the angel knew that they were alone. Sam had gone into the restroom, leaving them to face each other while heat grew inside their stare. Dean's hand slowly left Cas's mouth and gradually fell to lay flat against the angel's chest. Castiel could see the fire of lust attempting to ignite in Dean's eyes; suppressed arousal trying to burst forth.

“Do... Do you really have a hard-on right now?” he asked, casually glancing down at the angel's lower half.

“I believe I am in the first stages of having an erection,” Castiel admitted, able to feel blood rushing to fill the organ as they spoke.

Dean's throat quivered as he swallowed and his fingers curled to clutch a handful of Cas's white shirt. The angel's heart rate increased as he noticed they were inching closer, leaning forward to aline their lips. Whatever seemed to have been haunting Dean before was gone now; lost in the sea of arousal taking over his expression. Castiel was glad to see it go. There was nothing he enjoyed more than having Dean in a constant state of happiness.

Within a few more inches, their mouths finally met; tongues instantly embracing like lovers kept apart for too long. Castiel hummed in Dean's mouth as he reached up to tug him closer; cradling his warm body against his vessel. Dean quickened in response, roughly raking his fingers through Cas's hair while he clutched the back of his head. The angel could feel his erection growing between his legs with the actions; begging to driven inside Dean's body as soon as possible.

The soft creak of the door interrupted the silence once more.

Dean instantly ripped himself from Castiel's gasp and stepped back, recoiling and panting while his green eyes flashed toward the motel bathroom. Fear of discovery was evident on his face. Castiel blinked in confusion, looking from Dean's worried face to watch Sam exit the bathroom in utter ignorance. Sam already knew of their relationship, of course. But did it still bother Dean to be seen in an intimate moment?

Sam looked up to see them breathing heavily with darkened lips, and realization was quick to fall over his face. Sam knew that they had just kissed, no matter how much Dean seemed to be trying to hide it.

“Hey, don't molest the angel while I'm here, alright?” he smirked.

The fear slowly vanished from Dean's face at his brother's odd request. A genuine smile carefully reappeared on his tender lips again.

“You should be more worried about _him_ molesting _me_ ,” he answered, giving Cas a small wink.

Castiel felt relieved to finally see the sheer happiness return to Dean. Though he still wasn't entirely sure what had caused Dean to become upset, the angel attempted to shrug it off in the same way Dean did. The man was happy now, and that was truly all that mattered.

* * *

Castiel watched over both Winchesters all night as they slept peacefully in their motel room. Neither of them seemed to stir very much. Dawn slowly approached in the morning hours, steadily illuminating the room with warm sunlight. All night, the angel continually glanced along Dean's sleeping form from a nearby chair; studying each fragment of his creation – every perfectly placed freckle, every tiny hair follicle – just to simply marvel at his mere existence yet again. Castiel was glad that he had time like this in which he could just be close to Dean, even when the man slept.

Sam was the first to wake. The younger Winchester yawned and stumbled out of bed before heading straight for the bathroom. He returned only a few moments later, fully dressed and prepared for the day. Castiel continued to sit at Dean's side and patiently wait for him to wake up as well. But after tossing on a jacket, Sam turned his attention toward the angel by the far wall.

“Hey, Cas,” he said quietly, “Can you help me real quick?”

Castiel cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter in the chair, glancing briefly down at Dean.

“With what?” the angel asked, not really wanting to leave Dean's side.

“I'm gonna change the oil in the car, and I thought maybe you could lift up the front end for me so that I can crawl under the hood,” he explained.

Castiel took a deep breath of secret annoyance. He had hoped to remain where he was and be the first person Dean saw when he woke up; to remind the man that he wasn't going anywhere. But, the Impala was just right outside. If Sam only needed Castiel for a quick job, then the angel supposed he could help.

“Fine,” Cas agreed, hesitantly standing up to follow Sam out the door.

The angel followed the younger Winchester outside where the sun was bright on the horizon, casting warm rays onto the shiny Impala. The car sat just across the parking lot, facing the main road. Castiel briefly glanced back at the building behind them as he followed Sam toward the front of the vehicle. He hoped that Dean would remain asleep until he returned. Sam retrieved a few things from inside the car before finally leading the way to the hood.

“Just lift up from the bumper and keep her up,” Sam instructed, “It should only take me a few minutes. Can you hold it that long?”

“Yes,” Castiel sighed, uninterested.

The angel quickly did as he was told, bending down to lift the bumper of the car and raise both front tires off the ground. Sam gave him a brief look of astonishment, seeming impressed by his strength, before getting down to slide under the hood. The angel took another deep breath and glanced around the parking lot while Sam worked. Castiel didn't mind helping Sam of course, but being away from Dean was starting to eat at him. He and Dean had not been apart these last few days, and Castiel had become accustomed to being near Dean at all times. As Sam did his work under the car, Dean's voice suddenly lit up in Cas's mind like a beacon -

_Cas?_

Castiel looked across the parking lot and zeroed his sight on the motel door that housed his favorite human. Oh, no. Dean had woken up from his slumber, just as Castiel did not want to happen. And now the man was praying; calling out from the motel room in confusion.

_Cas? Where'd you go?_

The angel felt terrible instantly. Dean sounded so worried and lonely. Castiel looked down at Sam's feet sticking out from under the car and felt torn. Though he wanted to get back to the motel room, Castiel couldn't place the car back down without crushing Sam in the process. How long was it going to take Sam to change the oil? Castiel stared at the motel door at a distance with yearning, silently wishing that prayer worked both ways.

_Looks like I'm all alone, here... Sam's gone, too..._

Dean's words did not sound as woeful as Castiel expected. On the contrary, they sounded a bit... lustful. He was purring rather than praying; using an enticing tone. Was Dean not upset about waking up alone? What kind of mood was he in? Castiel kept listening to figure out the answer.

 _Well, I guess it's just me_ , Dean sighed, _Just me... and my hard cock..._

Castiel's mouth fell open at the sound of Dean's vulgar comment. Did Dean truly have an erection? Castiel could almost picture the scene in his mind; the man laid out on the bed like a feast, staring down at the hard organ protruding from his underwear... perhaps stroking it teasingly... Castiel could feel an erection forming in his own pants at the thought.

 _What was that you said last night, Cas?_ Dean continued, his sleepy voice seductive, _You wanted to spread some seed?... Well, the pasture is open, cowboy. Get over here and do some plowing..._

The angel began to pant, feeling his body react to Dean's rugged prayer. Though he wasn't in the mood to fornicate the night before, Dean was definitely wanting sex now; practically giving Castiel a mating call. The angel looked down at Sam's feet again, feeling desperate.

“Sam,” Castiel croaked, wanting to return to Dean, “Get out from under there.”

 _Come on, Mighty Mouse,_ Dean's voice caressed Castiel's mind like a fine silk, _I'm ready for your pearly white stuff, now. All sticky and warm... Do you want me to loosen up for you? Here, lemme just roll over..._

Castiel picture this, too; Dean rolling over to jut his hips into the air, reaching a hand back to slide a finger inside himself – The angel's heart raced.

“Sam!” Castiel repeated, more frantic than before.

“What?” Sam called, his voice muffled under the car.

“Please get out from under there, Sam,” Cas asked, feeling his erection throbbing with urgency.

 _Man, my ass is so tight,_ Dean's voice hummed, _My finger barely fits in there. How do you keep stuffing that gigantic angel cock in there all the damn time? No wonder I can't sit comfortably... hold on... Ah... That's better... Gnah... Yeah..._

As soon as he heard the deep rumble of Dean's moans, Castiel knew that he couldn't handle the man's lustful prayers any longer. Shifting the weight of the car to one hand, the angel reached down and grabbed Sam by the ankle and quickly yanked him out from under the car – sliding him far across the pavement and out of harm's way – before dropping the Impala back on its wheels. With the sounds of Sam's disgruntled shock echoing behind him, Castiel transported himself back into the motel room. The angel landed beside Dean's bed – and his eyes fell upon the loveliest sight.

Dean was positioned almost exactly the way Castiel pictured him in his mind. The man was on his knees with the side of his face pressed to the bed while his hips remained bent up in the air. His underwear was wrapped around his knees and his shirt was slid up his back, revealing the largest part of his body. His tender buttocks was on full display, with the two halves spread enough to expose the dark-pink hole. His scrotum hung heavily between his thighs, appearing to repeatedly tense. Dean did, in fact, have an erection. It was rubbing against his lower stomach with the awkward angle. The entire sight nearly took Castiel's breath away.

Dean's head titled toward Cas slightly, meeting his eyes while he traced the ring of his opening with his own finger. Castiel could feel his own erection pressing firmly against his pants.

“It's about time, Farmer Brown,” Dean grinned, rocking his hips toward Castiel, “Are you ready to start sowin' seeds or what?”

Dismissing Dean's odd nicknames and references, Castiel stepped forward urgently. He began by stretching out his hand and gently touching one of the man's pale cheeks. Cas rubbed his fingertips along the entire soft area, causing goosebumps to rise on the skin. The angel enjoy the small sensation, memorizing the smooth texture. Dean seemed to approve of the contact, rocking back a little more.

“You feel so good, Dean,” Castiel commented.

“I taste even better,” Dean replied, his devilish smirk growing.

Dean's words made the angel curious to know – what _did_ the rest of Dean's body taste like? Cas blinked before setting his eyes on the tender spot between the man's cheeks. Using both hands, Castiel carefully spread the plump halves farther apart and lowered his head toward it. Heat radiated from the tight entrance, shooting jolts of arousal to Cas's erection. With his curiosity peeked, Castiel poked his firm tongue out of his mouth and traced the tip around the ridged ring.

“ _Ah,_ ” Dean groaned, lifting his head a little, “What... What are you - ?”

Dean's question became lost in his throat as Castiel prodded the wet muscle even firmer against the center; licking and tasting the sensitive hole with his entire tongue. The muscle flexed around Cas's tongue at its abnormal entry. The angel's erection throbbed more fiercely in his pants, still begging to be released. But Castiel wanted to pleasure Dean for as long as he could, because the man seemed to be enjoying this very much.

“That – that is so much better... than I thought it would be... Ah,” Dean whimpered, reaching back to rake a hand through Cas's hair.

Castiel flicked his tongue against the ring of muscle, indulging in the moist, bodily flavor. Dean's entrance continued to contract, gradually loosening as Castiel's mouth filled it with slick saliva. Dean rocked back onto it, holding down moans and cries.

“Son of a bitch,” he panted, “Stop teasing me... Put the damn thing in.”

Castiel slurped his tongue back into his mouth instantly and stood up straight at once. At last, the angel tugged his erection free from his pants and instantly lined it up with Dean's dripping wet hole. Noises of approval seemed to tumble out of both of them as Castiel carefully slid inside Dean. The angel was thrusting before he knew it; savoring the coursing pleasure emanating from his pelvis. Dean climbed to his hands and knees to buffer the blows and aid Cas's movement.

“Ah,” Castiel groaned, feeling close to climax already, “D – Dean!”

Dean hummed in satisfaction, reaching back to place his hand over one of Cas's on his hip. Castiel thrust even harder, hammering into the man with enough force to shake the bed. Dean approved, backing against the angel's large shaft. Castiel felt extremely close to the edge. He focused on Dean's jiggling cheeks, watching his own stiff organ sliding quickly in and out of him -

And orgasm suddenly pulsed through Castiel like a whirlwind, clouding his mind and causing his body to shudder. His moans echoed throughout the room, mixing with Dean's as he climaxed. He was releasing inside Dean before he could stop it; feeling his scrotum tensing to ejaculate. The angel clung to Dean's hips in the fog of bliss, becoming overwhelmed with sensation.

“Gnah, _yes!_ ” Dean groaned.

Castiel quickly attempted to blink his sight back into focus when Dean cried out. He knew that the man was climaxing now from the way his back was curving and his hand was stroking feverishly. Cas could feel it internally as well, all of Dean's reproductive organs convulsing against the angel's erection. Castiel adored hearing the sounds of lust fall from Dean's mouth while he rose to orgasm.

After splattering the bed with semen, Dean carefully raised up to ease back against Castiel. The angel took him in his arms at once; cradling Dean's weak body against his own chest. Both of them panted for a moment, trying to physically regroup from their amazingly effective intercourse.

“I... I knew you'd come running,” Dean mused, his unfocused emerald eyes only half open.

“You were... very persuasive,” Castiel agreed, his cheek rubbing against Dean's sweaty temple as he nodded.

Dean gave a chuckle as he turned his head to look at Castiel properly. The angel was momentarily captured by the phenomenal shade of green; hypnotized by the vibrancy of Dean's eyes. The man stretched his neck to bring their mouths together. Castiel swirled his tongue around Deans only briefly, before Dean pulled away.

“You taste like ass,” he grinned, smacking his lips together.

Castiel was unsure of how to reply to this statement. Should he apologize? Agree?

“Um... Okay,” he finally said.

“Where did you go anyway, Cas?” Dean asked, turning semi-serious.

Castiel's eyes widened in fear when Sam came back to mind. Oh, no. The younger Winchester was not going to be happy about this... Castiel carefully slid out of Dean and quickly reached down to tuck himself away. Dean winced a little at the sudden removal but then stumbled off the bed to face the angel.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Sam,” Cas replied, starting for the door, “I left him outside.”

Dean followed Castiel to the motel door, where he opened it to peek outside. Across the parking lot, Sam was standing by the Impala – and he was completely doused in motor oil. Shame manifested in Cas's gut as he observed that Sam's hair and clothing were completely covered in the brown goo. Sam was uninjured, of course, but had apparently been ripped from his work too soon.

“What the hell did you do?!” Dean whispered fearfully to Cas.

At the sound of Dean's voice, Sam's head snapped toward them. Anger immediately flashed on his dirty face, eyes lighting up with raw fury and lips forming a hard line. He glared at Castiel while he threw a filthy rag from his hand onto the ground. The angel was frozen in place by shame and embarrassment, holding onto the motel door with worry. How was Castiel ever going to apologize to Sam for this?

Dean gulped beside Castiel as he, too, was under Sam's angered glare. The man carefully tugged the doorknob out of the angel's grip before gently closing the door to block them from Sam's view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sammy. He just catches all kinds of crap, doesn't he? lol. :D Don't worry. Just like before, Sam will have his revenge. (In the next chapter, in fact.) ;) More smut - and hilarious antics - are definitely on the way. :D Thank you guys so much for commenting and following this story! I love you all sooo much! <3 The next chapter will be out soon!


	3. Chapter 3

“Sam,” Cas sighed, for the hundredth time, “I have already stated the depth of my sincerest apologies many -”

“I don't want to hear it,” Sam snapped, shooting the angel a glare over the front seat of the Impala, “Do you know how hard it is to wash motor oil out of your hair, Cas? I don't freakin' think so. I stood in the shower for over an hour, man! I was wrinklier than Larry King in the middle of July by the time I got out of there.”

“I offered to help cleanse you,” the angel reminded, setting his frustrated blue eyes on the back of Sam's head, “but you refused to let me, in case you forgot.”

“Oh, I didn't forget,” Sam said, giving a hard dry chuckle, “I know what you were doing with those 'healing hands' just before you and Dean poked your heads out of the room -”

“Enough!” Dean finally shouted, briefly looking away from the road to glance at his brother beside him, “We get it, Sam. You're pissed. But can you please just stow your crap long enough for us to get through this stupid lunch?”

Dean's little brother inhaled and exhaled audibly in the passenger seat and narrowed his eyes at Dean's request. Dean returned his sight to the road in front of him, watching the double lines curve with the pavement as he drove. The three of them were heading toward a nearby town to have lunch with someone they helped before, and the atmosphere of the car ride wasn't very pleasant. Dean could understand Sam's frustration, especially when it came to being the ass-end of a joke. But he didn't like hearing Sam bitch at Cas for it. If anything, Dean felt that he himself deserved to be the target of Sam's anger. It was Dean's own fault for making those prayers too damn hot for Cas to resist.

After a few minutes of silent tension and harsh glances, the Impala finally arrived at Tom Padrino's Italian restaurant. Dean pulled smoothly into the parking lot, noticing that most of the spots were filled with cars. He met eyes with Cas in the rear view mirror as he parked at the end of the long row of vehicles.

As much as Sam was upset with him, Cas seemed to be okay. His blue eyes still blossomed with affectionate care every time they fell on Dean – just like they were right now, as they stared at each other in the mirror. And, to be honest, Dean loved being looked at like that; like Cas thought he was the most important thing in the world. The man smirked a little as he turned off the engine. For a moment, as he got lost in the angel's eyes, Dean almost believed that he really was important...

“The angel stays in the car.”

Dean blinked himself out of Cas's stare and turn to look at his brother incredulously beside him.

“What?” he asked, lost.

Sam looked defiant, giving Dean the most serious – and slightly pissed – expression ever. The kid was obviously not going to let go of the 'oil incident' from earlier. Sammy shook his head as he opened his door and stepped a long leg outside.

“I'm not going to put up with you two playing pocket-pool and whispering sweet nothings in front of a possible mafia member,” Sam warned, actual fear hinting in his face, “Pretty sure there's a cement truck out back and I'm not taking any chances.”

“We're here to eat lunch. Not impress the mob,” Dean spat, angered at the thought of leaving Cas all alone in the car, “What? You think we don't have self control, Sam?”

“Judging by the way Cas _literally_ drops everything and flies to you every time you make a booty call, I'd say no,” Sam replied, his tone flat, “You two can be apart for one lunch, Dean. You owe me at least that much.”

Dean's jaw snapped shut with anger. God, Sam could be so critical when he was pissed. But, as strong as his words were, the tall bastard had a point. If Cas was sitting next to Dean – all suited up and lusty eyed with that serious look on his pretty face – it would only be a matter of time before Dean couldn't resist touching him. The man glanced in the backseat again, where the angel was listening attentively to the conversation, and an ache formed in his chest.

“Fine,” Dean forced himself to say, feeling terrible, “Go get the damn table. I'll meet you inside.”

Sam breathed a sigh of relief as he pushed the car door open and finally stood up. The two brothers both exited the car together, though Dean lingered behind. Sam went on ahead, straightening out his jacket while he strode to the restaurant entrance. Dean watched him go while edging toward the back passenger-side door, hoping that Sam wouldn't notice his momentary absence.

Dean made sure his brother was completely inside the building before bracing his hands on the open window and leaning down to look inside the the car. Cas was already close to the window. The angel just turned in his seat and looking up at Dean with those big, sad puppy eyes. Dammit, those sapphires made Dean feel so guilty.

“I'm sorry,” Dean said quietly, feeling like an asshole.

“Please do not apologize, Dean,” Cas said, bracing his own hands against the door from the inside, “The last thing I would ever want to do is cause a rift between you and your brother. I know how much he means to you.”

Dean gulped, feeling a strange tingle in his chest. There it was again; that intense feeling that struck him like lightening at Cas's simple statements. Cas was so giving and caring and honest. There weren't many times in Dean's life that he was offered this much kindness...

The man's hand slid over to rest on top of Cas's. Then he quickly scanned the parking lot for people to make sure there was no one around, before leaning in to plant his lips to the angel's. Dean's eyes closed as he softly kissed Cas, feeling his chest tighten with emotion. Why the hell were his insides in knots? How was it possible to feel this much with just a small kiss?

Dean eventually pulled back a little, frightened of the deep emotion trying to take root behind his ribs. He rested his forehead against Cas's instead, unable to look anywhere but into the giant oceans of his eyes.

“Maybe you should just come inside,” he whispered.

“It's okay, Dean,” Cas assured, rubbing his thumb over the back of Dean's hand, “I'll wait here for you. Just go.”

Dean took a deep and calming breath of the angel's scent. Cas was right. He needed to go in there and just get it over with. With one last squeeze on Cas's hand, Dean forced himself to stand back up from the car and step away. The knots in his stomach tightened more and more as the distance stretched on between them. For God's sake, Cas was just going to be in the parking lot, right? Why did it feel so bad to be away from him like this?

While Dean silently questioned his own emotional state, he swept his way inside the Italian restaurant. The smell of fresh baked garlic bread hit him in the doorway as he scanned the room for his brother. Waiters and waitresses were dressed in cheap Italian bow ties and aprons, bustling around with steaming plates and ice-cold drinks. Every table was dressed with a long white sheet that touched the floor, with classy chairs all around them. Fake plants were strategically placed around the room too, adding a certain Tuscan flair. Over all, it seemed a nice setting to stuff your face in.

After a moment of searching, Dean spotted Sam sitting on the left at a table by himself. There were already drinks on the table, both water with lemon wedges on the glass rims. Sam turned to look up at Dean as he made his way over to sit next to him. A proud smirk spread on Sam's mouth for some reason.

“I already ordered for you,” he grinned, “Have a seat.”

Dean had to lift the table cloth to slide up to the table. When he dropped it, the fabric draped down over his lap like a heavy blanket.

“Where is this guy?” Dean asked, looking around, “Let's hurry up and get this freak show on the road.”

“Chill, Dean. Cas isn't going anywhere,” Sam mumbled, “Let's just enjoy this free meal before we go to Bobby's.”

The mention of Bobby instantly made Dean's heart pound. Ah, shit. He had forgotten about having to tell Bobby about all this, and being reminded of it made him feel worse. Dean grabbed his glass of water and took a few gulps, trying to wash down the feeling of discomfort.

“There they are!”

Dean and Sam both looked up to see a familiar heavy-set man making his way over to them. His thin mustache curved with his smiling lips and his plump cheeks squinted his eyes. Once he saw him, Dean instantly remembered who he was – because he reminded him of the stay-puff marshmallow man.

“Winchestas!” he rejoiced in his thick Italian accent, sitting in the seat opposite them, “I'm so happy to see ya smilin' faces! How's business, boys?”

Just as Dean opened his mouth to answer, a waitress strolled up and sat a plate down in front of him. Dean's eyes immediately fell to look at his own lunch, curious to know what Sam had ordered for him. A long, thick Italian sausage laid across the whole plate and a giant meatball sitting on each side of it. Dean's lunch looked exactly like a cock and balls... Dean turned to glare at Sam next to him, who was struggling to hold in a laugh.

“Real subtle,” Dean grumbled in a whisper as he unrolled his silver wear.

“Ah, ya gonna love that dish, my friend,” Tom said, giving Dean a wink, “It's the best sausage on dis side of da the pond.”

“I'm sure Dean can tell, sir. He's quite the sausage expert,” Sam grinned, taking a sip from his glass.

Dean stiffed a gruff sigh, squinting at Sam with the fork tight in his grasp. How many more dick jokes was Sam gonna make during lunch at Dean's expense? This was obviously pay back for whatever the hell Dean and Cas did to piss him off. Dean turned his attention to the sexual innuendo on the plate in front of him while Tom and Sam started to engage in a friendly conversation.

Just as Dean brought his fork down to slice into the meat, he felt something brush against his legs. The man's eyes widened, flashing up to look between his brother and the Italian man at the table. Did one of them kick him by accident? Was Sam playing footsie? Both of them looked deep in conversation, so they probably weren't doing it on purpose.

Then, Dean felt the distinct sensation of a hand clutching his thigh.

The first thought that popped into Dean's mind was that he was in danger. Like Sam had said before, Tom was a possible member of the mafia. Was someone under the table trying to harm them? Or take their weapons? Dean quickly and stealthily reached behind his back and retrieved the gun he kept hidden in his waist band, watching Sam and Tom to make sure they couldn't see it. Once he had it, Dean shoved his entire hand under the long table cloth, aiming his pistol in the direction of the person hiding there.

But the gun was suddenly ripped from his hand, leaving him grasping at the air. Shit! A slight panic came over Dean as he glanced between the two other men at the table. Could they not feel the person there, too? Just as Dean was getting ready to lean over and tell Sammy, he felt a hand take his own under the table. Two moist forms were suddenly pressing against his palm – two lips peppering it with kisses...

Dean gulped at the loving sensation. There was only one person on earth that could kiss so tenderly like that. Dean suddenly pictured Cas curled up under the table kissing his hand with gentle affection. Was it true? Was it really Cas hiding under there?

“Cas?” Dean whispered, too low for anyone else to hear.

Dean's hand was suddenly placed against a soft cheek. The head nodded against his palm, still planting kisses on the edge of his thumb. Dean's heart picked up speed at this news. What the hell was Cas doing under the table? Why didn't he come in through the front door like a normal person? Dean's questions seemed to be answered when he felt the angel's hands suddenly undoing his belt...

“ – and my da'lin' Maria likes to send 'em postcards from Italy,” Tom continued with his random story, “I tell ya, I love hearin' about those good 'ol fishin' trips. Like I said before -”

Sweat was beginning to collect on Dean's forehead,as he felt himself being exposed under the table. He tried to tug at Cas's coat collar – trying to somehow send a message that this was wrong – but there was no stopping the angel. Dean had a better chance getting Sam to cut his hair than to ever stop Cas from doing what he wanted... and, to be honest, Dean didn't really want him to stop, anyway...

Dean's dick was suddenly inside something warm and wet. He knew it was Cas's mouth, just from the wiggle of the tongue on the underside of his cock. The man held down a noise at the feeling, letting his fingers slide around to tangle in the angel's soft hair. His green eyes flashed from Tom to Sam at the table, who were both completely oblivious to the blow job taking place at their feet.

“Dean likes sports. He likes anything that has to do with balls, right Dean?” Sam asked his smug grin only spreading.

Dean didn't quite comprehend the question. He was too preoccupied with the mouth sucking on his cock to care, either.

“Yeah,” he answered, sounding like an erotic sigh.

Sam gave a nervous chuckle before steering the conversation toward a different subject. Dean blinked at the white table cloth as his exposed hand clutched his fork tighter. Oh God, Cas's mouth was sliding all the way up and down the length of his dick, making the end of his growing erection rub against the angel's tonsils. Shit. How was Cas not choking? How was Cas taking all of him without so much as a cough? Cas's throat was even contracting, like he was trying to swallow Dean whole...

“Mmm,” Dean sighed, closing his eyes, “ _Shit_.”

“What?”

Dean's eyes flew open to look at Sam, who was raising an eyebrow toward him in question. Dean gulped timidly, noticing that his own breathing was getting heavier.

“N – nothing,” Dean said, tightening his hand on the back of Cas's head, “Uh... G – Go on. You were saying?”

Though Sam seemed little thrown off by Dean's weird behavior, he picked up the conversation with Tom again. Dean was glad for the distraction. He let go of the fork and brought his hand up to brace against his mouth, trying to stop the moans from escaping. Dammit, Cas was so good at this; massaging Dean's sack with a gentle hand while his wet mouth quickened in speed. Dean had never had a blow job this good. Let alone received one under the table in the middle of a meal.

Dean's heart thumped hard behind his ribs, fueling the tense erection sliding in and out of Cas's mouth. He could feel an orgasm rapidly approaching; making him want to thrust his hips while he tried to control his breathing. Good God, Cas was sucking so hard; using his tongue to tease the head of Dean's cock with each retraction while he kneaded Dean's tense sack. Dean could feel his balls already seizing up, preparing for launch. Oh, shit, this wasn't going to take much longer...

While he steadily rose to climax, Dean clutched a handful of Cas's soft hair, feeling it raise and fall with the angel's moving mouth. He could feel the storm of pleasure coming like a gigantic wind; a heavy breeze quickly turning into a massive hurricane -

“But, afta my wife passed on, to dat big beautiful place in da sky,” Tom sighed, slightly hanging his head in sadness, “I swore I was neva gonna love again.”

“Ah!” Dean groaned, clenching his eyes shut as he bit into his own knuckle, “ _Y – Yeah!_ ”

Dean felt himself suddenly flooding Cas's mouth, pulsing against the back of the angel's throat. Bliss draped over the man's mind, turning his thoughts fuzzy while he slightly rocked his hips in his seat. Holy shit, Dean had never felt so good in his life. Cas was one talented son of a bitch...

The man eventually blinked his eyes open while he panted for breath. Horror and embarrassment fell over him when he saw Tom and Sam – and some neighboring costumers – giving him silent looks of confusion and bewilderment. Shit. Did he really moan that loudly? Dean instantly cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter as he reached for his glass of water.

“I – I mean, uh, that's – that's terrible,” Dean panted, trembling as he took a large gulp.

“Say, uh, you okay kid?” Tom asked, “You look a little red in da face.”

Dean nodded instantly. The water shook in his glass as he sat it back on the table with a trembling hand. Cas was still lapping at his softening dick under the table, licking slow lines along the shaft and prodding his tongue against the slit at the tip. Dean tried his best to hide his physical reactions as he glanced between the men at the table.

“I'm okay. Are you ready to go, Sammy?” Dean quickly prompted, turning to look at his brother, “We've got somewhere to be, don't we? Spain? Jupiter?”

“Bobby's?” Sam offered, looking confused.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, “Let's hit the road.”

“Lemme walk you fellas to the door,” Tom said, getting to his feet, “I'll getcha each a cannoli. My treat.”

Big Tom instantly stood up and shuffled for the front of the restaurant. But Dean remained seated while his brother stood up from the table. Sam paused to look down at him and raise an eyebrow.

“You go on ahead,” Dean pushed, “I'm – I'm, just gonna take a quick leak. I'll meet you at the car.”

Though Sam was definitely confused about his brother's request, he did as Dean asked and followed Big Tom toward the front of the restaurant. As soon as they were both gone, Dean carefully lifted up the long table cloth in his lap. Cas was, indeed, kneeling on the floor between Dean's knees. The angel's lips were darkened from sucking, but his eyes were still the perfect shade of blue that Dean adored. The bright orbs stared up at him from under the table as a smile spread across his gorgeous face.

“How was it, Dean?” Cas purred.

“Perfect,” Dean whispered, reaching down to stroke the side of the angel's soft face.

Cas nuzzled deeper into it, looking up at Dean like a work of art. Man, Dean wanted to kiss those pink lips so bad...

“Meet me outside,” Dean whispered.

Cas gave a single nod and disappeared completely from under the table. Once he alone, Dean slowly dropped the table cloth and looked around the restaurant again. Some people were still sending odd glances of bewilderment his way, probably wondering why he was talking toward his crotch. But Dean didn't care.

All he cared about was the meeting he was getting ready to have outside with his angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes. I set up an entire lunch meeting for the Winchesters to eat with an Italian Mobster _Just_ so Cas could give Dean a blowjob under the table. Is that ridiculous or what? lol! :D One thing I love about Sam and Dean's brotherly relationship is that they prank and mess with each other all the time. So that 'sausage and meatballs' lunch that Sammy ordered for Dean was part of that. Plus revenge for earlier. lol. :) I hope you all are still enjoying the story, even with all the crazy shenanigans. :D Thank you guys so much for reading and commenting! The next chapter - which has some feels - will be out soon! :)


	4. Chapter 4

Dean's heart was still racing – still sending electric jolts toward his crotch – as he hopped out of his seat and staggered around the Italian restaurant in a hurry. He was trying to find an exit, but his mind was kind of blurry from the amazing blow job Cas had just given him. Where the hell did that angel learn how to suck cock like a porn star? And how was he able to take the whole damn thing without choking?

While Dean secretly pondered the wonder of Cas's blow job skills, he finally spotted a door near the back of the room. The man glanced around to make sure no one was watching before quickly shoving his way outside. He suddenly found himself standing in an tight alleyway between the restaurant and another tall building. Cars rushed by at the end of the alley to his right and a chain-link fence barricaded the end to the left. The long space was fairly lit too, because the noon sun was hanging almost directly overhead. Dean scanned the tiny alley for his angel, feeling his lungs strain to keep up with his heart.

“Cas,” Dean almost croaked, his voice echoing up the brick buildings, “Where are you?”

A hand fell on Dean's shoulder and he was spun around and shoved against one of the brick walls before he even had time to gasp. Two heavenly blue eyes were suddenly staring him in the face. Cas was nearly glowing in the sunlight as he pawed at the front of Dean's clothes, mouth open and breathing harshly. Dean swallowed hard at the sight of pure arousal on Cas's face. Damn, he looked fiercely horny. And the mere sight of it made Dean's dick twitch.

“I'm here,” the angel nearly groaned, pressing their fronts together, “I waited for you.”

Dean couldn't hold back. His mouth instantly lunged forward to meet Cas's with a clash of teeth. A small whimper slipped from the back of Dean's throat, vibrating their kiss. Oh God, that feeling was so strong in his chest, now. It felt like his heart was swelling behind his ribs; ballooning with raw emotion. It was pulsing through his veins like warm whiskey; numbing his limbs and dulling his thoughts. And he loved it. Whatever the hell this feeling was, Dean didn't want it to go away.

“Mmm, Cas,” Dean whimpered, tugging at the angel's trench coat.

Just saying his damn name made Dean's heart inflate. Cas's wet lips moved from the man's mouth down to his neck, planing kisses all over the edge of his jaw along the way. Their hands were all over each other too, caressing and groping and pulling at clothes. Dean could feel that Cas's dick was already hard against his pants. Maybe the angel had been hard the whole time he was giving that damn good blow job under the table.

Dean panted loudly as they molested each other, enjoying the feeling of Cas's lips sucking lightly on the side of his tense neck. The man combed his fingers up the back of the angel's head, knotting his hand in the angel's velvet hair. The emotion was so huge inside him, making him feel like he was on the verge of exploding. Three little words were pressing at the back of his throat like a rocket preparing for launch -

A door opened at the end of the alley.

Dean blinked toward it, not fully comprehending that someone was walking outside. He was still enveloped in Cas's hot embrace and vaguely lost inside the emotion the angel was giving him. But Dean slowly realized that he was looking at a person nearby; a waiter from inside the restaurant. There was a bag of trash in one of his hands and a pizza box in the other. Just as the waiter rounded the open door, he and Dean met eyes.

A look of utter surprise and horror flashed on the dude's face, his jaw falling open and his eyes widening. Dean found that once their eyes were locked, he couldn't look away from the guy. Dean was frozen in shock and shame while he stood groping Cas and the angel sucked his neck black and blue. And it was this extremely uncomfortable stare with a stranger that shot Dean back to that terrible notion...

_My father would not approve._

Out of nowhere, a brief memory suddenly flashed in Dean's mind. He remembered his father handing him his first shoebox full of dirty magazines. It was packed with vintage issues of Playboy, covered in female body parts that Dean never had the nerve to fully look at before. He was only twelve years old. But the pride on his father's face was unforgettable; almost the same joy he had when he gave Dean his first gun. ' _Study up, son,'_ John said, his grin fully of authority, ' _You're gonna be one helluva lady's man one day. Make your old man proud.'_

And now, as he stared at the surprised waiter near the end of the alley, Dean once again pictured his own father's face wearing a similar expression. One of shock and anger, hinted with betrayal. What would John say if he saw Dean in the arms of an angel like this? How fast would his hands ball into fists? Which profanity would fly out of his mouth first?

Fear shook the very foundation of Dean's being at the mere thought of John's reaction to his relationship with Cas.

Dean's heart pounded loudly in his ears as the waiter quickly tossed the trash in the dumpster and retreated back into the restaurant. Dean felt like escaping; like trying to run away from this sickening twinge growing in his gut. His hands were no longer holding onto Cas, but trying to push him away instead.

“Cas,” he said gruffly, “Stop.”

* * *

Castiel didn't quite hear the word at the end of Dean's sentence. But the angel assumed that it was an affectionate noise and continued softly nipping at his neck, enjoying the salty taste of his skin. Castiel could feel the urge to penetrate Dean growing in his pelvis. He was thoroughly looking forward to intercourse, and was sure that Dean was as well.

“Cas,” Dean repeated, his hands pressing flat to Cas's chest.

Again, Castiel took this as a good sign. Dean always seemed to repeat Cas's name when he received physical pleasure from him. So Castiel deepened their embrace, tugging the man even closer as he flicked his tongue against his neck.

“ _Cas!_ ”

Dean's hands gripped fistfuls of the angel's trench coat and violently shoved him away, causing Castiel to stumble backward in the alley. The angel quickly steadied himself and took a few steps back to look up at Dean in wonder. Cas blinked at the man several times as he attempted to understand what had just happened. Dean's back was still braced against the building, and his tense shoulders rising and falling with his heavy breathing. But his jaw was set and his eyes held a peculiar mix of anger and fear.

“I said stop!” Dean nearly shouted, his deep voice echoing through the alley.

Guilt instantly clouded inside Castiel's heart. He had never heard Dean say the word 'stop' during their embraces before. Did the angel accidentally hurt Dean without knowing it? Did Castiel hold him too tight? Kiss him too hard? Harm him in some way?

“F – Forgive me,” the angel said instantly, though he was still a bit confused.

Dean just panted and stared hard at Castiel with intense emotion for a moment. The man didn't seem to feel any better with Cas's statement. His brute posture didn't relax in the least, and it made Castiel feel worse. What could Cas do to remedy the situation? Should he attempt to verbally apologize again? What had he done to cause Dean such distress?

Before Castiel was able to say anything, however, Dean was suddenly stomping away. The angel followed him at a safe distance as he stormed out of the alleyway and back into the parking lot. The physical excitement that had been building between them fled Cas's body, leaving the erection between his legs to wilt. The sudden shift in Dean's emotion left Castiel to wonder what he had done wrong. But as badly as he wanted to ask, it appeared that Dean was too upset to socialize. And the last thing Castiel wanted to do was make him feel worse...

After crossing the parking lot, Dean instantly climbed into the driver's seat of his car, where Sam was already seated on the passenger side. Castiel joined them, cautiously sitting in the backseat and shutting the door quietly. Sam, who had a mouth full of food, offered a pastry toward his brother.

“You've gotta try one of these things,” he grinned, voice muffled by food, “They're amazing. And look, Tom gave us a whole basket.”

“I don't want the damn cannoli,” Dean growled, aggressively starting the engine.

Sam seemed to realize the change in Dean's demeanor instantly. The younger Winchester flashed a glance to Castiel over the seat and raised an eyebrow in question. But the angel sighed and looked away, bringing his sight to rest on the scenery moving beyond his window. He didn't know how to reply Sam's unasked question, because he didn't know the answer either.

For close to an hour, the Impala was uncomfortably silent. Castiel found himself constantly glancing at the side of Dean's face in wonder as his mind replayed the scene from the alley over and over. He truly wished to know what he had done wrong. Did he hurt Dean? If so, why didn't the man just explain it to him instead of pushing him away with such anger? Castiel believed that he and Dean had been steadily growing closer, in both physical and emotional areas. But had he been wrong? Had they reached a certain limit in their relationship? As much as Castiel craved to ask, he remained quiet; afraid it would cause Dean more pain.

When the Impala finally pulled in front of Bobby's house, Castiel swiftly stole another glance at Dean. The angel saw that the man's face had relaxed a bit from their time on the road. Perhaps there was a healing power in driving that helped Dean cope with his emotions. Everyone exited the car together, but Castiel lingered behind as Dean and Sam walked to Bobby's front door. He wanted to give Dean the respectful space he required. Sam was still glancing between the angel and his brother with a look of slight confusion. But Dean was still looking anywhere but at Castiel... and it made the angel's heart ache.

After knocking on the front door repeatedly with no reply, Sam decided to call Bobby's cell phone. He engaged in a small chat with him and asked about the front door, before saying farewells and hanging up.

“He said to go on in and make ourselves at home,” Sam explained, leading the way inside.

“What? He's not here?” Dean asked, tossing his keys on the kitchen counter.

Again, Castiel lingered behind. The angel carefully edged his way over to the kitchen table, turning his back to the brothers and peering out of the window. Cas continued to listen to Sam and Dean, even though he was turned away.

“No,” Sam sighed, “He said he won't be back until tomorrow, but to wait here for him.”

There was a small silence, in which Castiel knew Sam was probably attempting to figure out why there seemed to be an invisible wall between Dean and the angel. Castiel silently prayed that Sam would ask Dean what was wrong, hoping to hear the answer for himself. And soon enough...

“Hey, what happened?” Sam whispered, apparently speaking toward Dean only.

“Nothing,” Dean replied, also in a whisper, “Just... It's personal.”

Castiel could hear that the anger had melted away from Dean's voice. Now he sounded calm and perhaps a bit more open. The angel was glad to know his favorite human was feeling better. Perhaps Sam played a role in Dean's healing process as well.

“Well, uh, maybe you two should talk things out,” Sam suggested, still quiet, “It's weird seeing you guys so... distant.”

Castiel silently agreed with Sam's statement. He disliked the distance between them just as much. Dean sighed and there was another short silence – before the sound of jingling keys caught Castiel's attention. The angel turned around quickly, fearing that Dean was preparing to leave. But it was Sam jingling the keys in his hand. He smiled and looked between Dean and Cas as he backed toward the door.

“I think I'll go shoot some pool at the bar in town,” Sam mentioned, smirking, “Probably won't be back until the early hours of the morning, you know how it is...” the younger Winchester paused in the doorway to give Dean a wink, “Looks like you've got the whole house to yourselves tonight.”

There seemed to be a suggestive look on Sam's face as he backed completely out of the doorway. After the soft snap of the door closing, Castiel leaned against the kitchen table; bracing a hand on the hard wood as he dropped his eyes to the floor. It was nice of Sam to offer Dean and Castiel time to be alone together like this. But it was obvious that nothing intimate was going to be taking place between them. Not after what happened in the alley...

The sound of gentle footsteps caught Castiel's attention. The angel slowly raised his head to see that Dean was carefully making his way toward him. The man's eyes were on the floor – and seemed overwhelmingly apologetic. He looked guilty; walking slowly like a condemned convict. Castiel searched Dean's face as he came closer, wondering why he appeared so remorseful. Once close enough to the table, Dean reached out and carefully slid his fingertips across the top of Cas's hand. Castiel savored the feeling, looking up to finally meet eyes with Dean.

“I'm... I'm sorry,” the man mumbled, his emerald eyes glistening as they bore into Castiel.

“Did I do something wrong, Dean?” Castiel asked instantly, dying to know the answer.

Dean shook his head and a streak of sadness came over his face. His whole hand was suddenly gripping the angel's on the table.

“No. Not a damn thing,” he answered, leaning forward to rest his forehead to Castiel's, “You didn't do anything wrong, Cas. It was me, I swear it was. I just...” Dean paused for a moment, seeming to be trying to find the right words, “... I'm just not used to being given so much affection.”

The honesty in Dean's stare was bold and unyielding. Castiel could understand at least a little of what Dean was trying to say. The man wasn't accustomed to being hugged tightly or kissed passionately. He wasn't accustomed to being doted on, or pleasured altruistically, or being cared for in the same way he took care of others. Dean wasn't used to being _loved_.

Castiel slowly tilted his head up to bring his lips against Dean's. The angel kissed the man as sweetly as possible, reaching up to cradle the back of his fragile head. Dean kissed him back firmly, parting his lips to taste Cas's mouth. After a moment, Castiel gently pulled back enough to speak.

“Perhaps I can help you overcome that,” the angel stated, lips brushing over Dean's.

A soft smile graced Dean's mouth, spreading to light up his entire face.

“I think you just might,” he agreed in a whisper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, John Winchester was a shitty parent. Especially to his oldest son, for some reason. Which is why poor Dean has so many issues. :( Don't worry though, my dear reader. Cas, Sam, and Bobby are all going to help him through this. And he will be stronger than ever. ;) I hope you guys are still enjoying the story, even with all the drama. lol. :) Thank you so much for reading and commenting! 
> 
> And if you're an American like me, I truly hope this story - and all the other stories on this amazing site - are helping you cope with the current crisis in our nation. Just remember, no matter who is in charge, there are people out there who love you and want only the best for you. Stay strong and fight for what you believe in, because you are not alone. <3 :)


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel and Dean stood against the kitchen table with their mouths connected for some time. The angel was toying with the impression of intercourse; deliberately tightening his fingers on Dean's hips and pulling him forward to press their pelvis's together. He was attempting to send an erotic message in roughly the same manner Dean did before with his gun; mimicking actions that were normally associated with sex, such as stroking a phallic object. Or, in this case, imitating sensual thrusting.

And Dean was clearly receiving these signals, because he was responding to Castiel's movements with equal yearning. After the angel gave a single hard thrust against Dean's front, the man chuckled his way out of their kiss.

“Could you be anymore obvious?” Dean smiled.

“Indeed, I could,” Castiel nodded, exquisitely glad to see happiness back on Dean's lovely face, “but it seems I don't have to be.”

Dean briefly glanced around to appraise the kitchen and the study beyond the large archway. His green eyes were scrutinizing the open area, perhaps internally debating on whether the space would be adequate for intercourse or not. Castiel looked around with appraisal as well. To be perfectly honest, he believed that they could have fairly enjoyable sex on any of the surfaces available; the worn sofa, the cluttered desk, the kitchen table... Frankly, the setting didn't matter. But the smile on Dean's mouth was slowly fading as he glanced around.

“What if Bobby comes home early?” Dean mumbled, sounding as if he was thinking aloud.

“Then I will fly us elsewhere,” Castiel assured, able to see the worry growing in the man's face.

Dean took a deep breath, making his chest extend to brush against Cas's. The man didn't seem to gain any ease with the angel's words. Was it the thought of being discovered in the middle of sex that bothered Dean so much? Did he fear that eyes might bear witness to their intimate embrace? Or did he simply fear the judgment that might follow? Dean eventually cleared his throat and inched backward.

“Just, uh, lemme get a beer first,” he breathed, his statement sounding more like a question, “I need the carbs to keep up with your holy ass.”

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel urged, slowly letting go of his hips, “Take your time.”

As Dean turned to walk toward the refrigerator, the angel looked back into the study. If prying eyes were what caused Dean distress, then Castiel would make sure they had complete privacy. He quickly stepped into the study and shut the blinds over the windows. The angel raised his hand to draw the curtains closed with celestial magic; pulling them tight together to drown out the dimming light of sunset. The room darkened considerably in its absence.

After the windows were taken care of, Castiel turned to look more closely at the study. He scanned for a place within the room that could best be used to shield fornication, in case someone were to stumble upon them. The angel eyed the desk first, seeing that the fireplace was only a few feet behind it. The rug on the floor looked exceptionally inviting; soft enough to lay Dean down on and still have him remain comfortable.

Castiel raised his hand toward the charred logs resting inside the fireplace and created a spark amongst them. They caught fire almost instantly, causing the growing flames to give the dark room a warm orange glow. Castiel looked along the floor space between the fireplace and desk again afterward and could almost picture himself laying tangled together with Dean. It was going to be an excellent place for them to disappear into the throws of heated infatuation...

“Way to set the mood.”

Castiel's eyes raised at the sound of Dean's low voice. The man was smirking as he slowly made his way into the study. It appeared that Castiel was finally successful in easing his distress. Dean took a large gulp of his alcoholic beverage before stepping over to place the bottle on the cluttered wooden desk at Castiel's side. The two of them were standing fairly close as the glow of the fireplace warmed the air around them. In that moment, Cas felt as though he finally understood the primal influence that fire had in shifting humanistic urges. The flames seemed to be fueling the intensity between the two of them as they stood searching each others' faces. Dean looked so breathtakingly _beautiful_.

“I would pleasure you until you could no longer register the difference between heaven and earth, Dean,” Castiel uttered, unable to stop himself, before quickly adding, “If I could.”

Dean gulped, causing his Adam's apple to bob along his throat as his eyes widened the tiniest bit. The man was suddenly slipping his shirt off; gripping the bottom hem of the fabric in his fingers and crossing his arms to pull it up over his head. Castiel drank in the sight of Dean's bare torso as it was being exposed, admiring his dark nipples, ridges of muscle, and valleys of soft skin. Dean's body appeared almost copper with the glow of the orange fireplace. The man tossed his shirt away and stepped closer, reaching out to hook his index fingers around Cas's.

“Boy, I'd like to see you try,” Dean hummed quietly with a teasing eyebrow.

It delighted Castiel to see the playfulness returning to Dean's expression. The earlier confusion from the alley made the angel realize how terrible it would be if happiness disappear from the man standing before him.

“If you ever feel threatened by my actions Dean, you need only say so,” Castiel offered, remembering how angered and frightened he was in the alley, “Hurting you is the furthest thing from my true intentions.”

“I know,” Dean nodded.

He leaned forward to brush his lips against Cas's, and Castiel kissed Dean in return; raising his hands to curve them around the man's bare back. There was a distinct sting of alcohol lurking in the Dean's mouth. Dean was tugging at the angel's coat while Cas guided them toward the small space between the desk and fireplace. Heat was growing all around them, both among the room and inside their embrace. Once close enough to the rug, Castiel carefully tipped Dean to the side to lay him on the floor.

Dean made a small noise of surprise at the sudden horizontal position, tightening his grip on the angel's clothes while Cas lowered him down. Afterward, Castiel hovered over Dean to search all along his precious face as it shined in the light of the fire next to them. Dean was already breathing irregularly; huffing bated breath while he pulled at the front of Castiel's coat.

“You – You can put clothes on with your angel power or whatever, so can you take them off like that too?” he asked, appearing eager.

Castiel raised to rest on his knees between Dean's thighs. It had strangely never crossed Cas's mind to rid them of clothing in that manner, but Dean had a point. Perhaps taking them off with his grace would be equally as simple as returning them. Wanting to test the theory, Castiel reached down and placed his palm flat against Dean's tense abdomen. In a flash, the man's clothes were gone, revealing the organ beginning to swell between his legs. Dean stifled a gasp at the sudden exposure, looking down to see his own body.

“Nice,” he breathed, returning his eyes to Cas's, “Your turn.”

Castiel braced his hand against his own chest at Dean's words, and the clothes on his vessel vanished as well. The two of them were laying naked together on the worn rug then; Castiel hovering over Dean while the man's eyes wandered all over the angel's naked form above him. The fire crackled beside them, casting bits of burning embers to bounce among the fireplace. It occurred to Castiel, as he brought his lips down to meet Dean's mouth, that they had never faced each other during intercourse. Their encounters had always resulted in Castiel pressed at Dean's back while Dean faced away. But now, Castiel was lost in Dean's emerald eyes as their naked bodies were pressed together, and it made the angel realize that he favored this position far more for that very reason.

Craving to get started, Castiel raised briefly to peer down at his own stiffening organ. The angel gathered a generous amount of saliva in his mouth and transferred it to his palm. He lubricated himself, stroking his own member with his wet hand, before lining up with Dean's entrance. The man allowed him access to it, holding both of his legs back and wearing a ready expression. With a bit more saliva, Castiel prodded a finger in first, loosening the muscle in preparation. Dean's breathing became harsher at the sensation.

“Shit,” he grumbled, his jaw tightening, “Just put it in.”

Wanting to cater to Dean's wishes, Castiel carefully removed his finger and replaced it with the hard shaft. Dean's eyes were squinted shut as the angel entered him; mouth open and gasping. Sheer pleasure radiated from Cas's hard organ as he slid inside Dean's warm body. Castiel couldn't compare the sensation to any other in existence. He studied Dean's face with arousal as he carefully slid in and out of the man's tender opening.

Moans were pressing at the edge of Castiel's mouth as he steadily increased speed. He enjoyed the sight of Dean's emerald eyes clouding with pleasure while he penetrated him. As they slid together, the man reached up to take hold of Castiel's extended arms that were braced on either side of him. Their eyes met as Castiel deepened his thrusts.

“Ah,” the erotic cry floated out of Dean's mouth like a tumbling feather, “Mmm, Cas.”

Castiel made his own noise at the sound of Dean's approval. The concept of giving Dean pleasure seemed to add to the angel's own. He went faster, feeling the sack beneath his shaft smacking against Dean's lower back with the thrusts. Between them, laying against Dean's scrunched lower stomach, was Dean's erection. The organ was wobbling around with Cas's harsh motions, rubbing seminal fluid against the man's tense abdominal muscles. The wet streaks glistened in the orange light from the fireplace, catching Cas's attention. Wanting Dean to share in physical bliss, Castiel took hold of the drooling shaft at once; wrapping all of his damp fingers around the organ in a tight grip.

“Ahh,” Dean moaned, his hips thrusting slightly, “Ah, yeah.”

With Dean's approval, Castiel began to stroke the man's member. The angel kept in mind all of the techniques Dean had taught him before; about the correct way of handling this particular body part. The angel tugged at the throbbing organ while he thrust inside him, coaxing pleasure both inside and outside of Dean's body. Groans fought to escape Dean's mouth as he curled against Castiel.

“S – Son of a bitch,” Dean's straining voice cracked, “Faster!”

Castiel complied, moving both his hands and hips in sync. The angel's own pleasure was mounting with the sight of Dean's enjoyment; his gasping mouth, tensing muscles, and green eyes that were beginning to roll back. Cas rocked hard into Dean each time, feeling the man's insides tightening against his own erection. The climax was approaching rapidly; causing Castiel to pound into Dean so hard that the rug was sliding beneath them.

“ _Cas!_ ” Dean cried, his hands gasping at the angel's arms, “Ah, shit! Y – Yeah!”

The organ in Castiel's hand suddenly pulsed, shooting semen up Dean's glistening torso. Just as the angel looked down to see white fluid splattering all over the man's front, an orgasm burst within his own body. Thoughts were lost from his mind as euphoria draped over him. He was moving without being aware; too bogged down with pleasure to recall how to properly function. He could feel himself releasing inside Dean, filling him up with all his organ had to offer, but could barely comprehend it. To Castiel, there was no sensation in the history of mankind that felt as exquisite as this – Being totally enveloped inside Dean Winchester.

As he made the woozy descent from the height of bliss, Castiel blinked his sight into focus in order to search Dean's face once more. The man seemed to be in a similar state of hazy felicity. He was panting on the floor and blinking lazily toward the angel while his chest heaved. The sight gave Cas a certain sense of pride. _He_ was the reason that Dean was so drunk with pleasure, and it made everything feel worth while.

Instead of speaking, Dean reached up to wrap his arms around Castiel's neck and shoulders and pull him down into a sudden kiss, allowing his hands to roam all over Cas's bare flesh. Dean was kissing him softly, now; similar to how a lover would greet their partner after a long overdue absence. His lips were almost clinging to the angel's; his arms tight around him as if he thought Castiel might vanish. Cas held him closely in return, circling his arms around the man and gently relaxing on top of him. Although he enjoyed it, Castiel was a bit curious. Why was Dean being so affectionate like this?

* * *

Dean kissed Cas hard, holding the guy as close as he could without suffocating himself. Warm emotion was coursing through him just like before; feeling like whiskey in his veins. All the one-night-stands in Dean's life _added together_ couldn't even hold a candle to sex with Cas. Even after all the rough-housing was over, Dean was still left feeling this overwhelming swelter of pleasure. And not the physical kind. No, it was something deeper than that. Something he couldn't put his damn finger on. But Dean loved it. God, he loved feeling this way.

“Mmm, that was so good,” Dean mumbled into Cas's mouth.

The angel raised his head a little, parting their lips to breathe. Dean panted the hot air between them while he stared up at Cas's pretty face, getting lost in those blue oceans of his eyes. His face was glistening with a thin coat of sweat in the orange light from the fire, and his lips looked so pink. Man, Cas was just so good-looking. How in the world did Dean not notice how hot he was before all of this? Out of nowhere, Dean heard the echo of his father's haunting voice in his head -

_What the hell are you doing with that angel, Dean?_

Panic was trying to rise in Dean again as the picture of John's angered face flashed in his mind. But Dean fought against the queasy feeling that was trying to take root in his gut. No. No, dammit. He was not gonna let his dad ruin another moment with Cas. Not this time. Dean's jaw clicked shut as he took deliberate breaths and tried to focus. But it was so hard to ignore his father's furious shouts of disapproval.

“What's the matter, Dean?”

Dean's eyes flashed up to meet Cas's again. Apparently, the angel was able to see right through him; able to pick up his every emotion just like that. Dean huffed a sigh and forced himself to relax on the rug. How was he going to get his father's voice to go away? Maybe what Dean needed was a distraction; something to drown out the terrible image in his head.

“Tell me a story, Cas,” Dean suddenly requested.

He figured that listening to Cas's steady voice would help him calm down. But Cas was clearly confused by Dean's unexpected request.

“A... Story?” Cas repeated, lost.

“Yeah. Tell me an old war story or something,” Dean suggested, “Make it a bloody one.”

Maybe hearing about Cas smiting droves of random creatures would help him cope with his own anger. And Dean knew that Cas was bound to have tons of stories just waiting to be told anyway. Cas blinked, getting lost in his own head for a second, before taking a deep breath. Dean kept his focus on Cas's blue eyes, still subconsciously fighting the angry voice inside his mind.

“Well,” Cas began, his hand gently roaming over Dean's bare chest, “Once, my father bestowed a mission upon me that was of the highest importance -”

“That's fine,” Dean encouraged, “Tell that one.”

“Okay...” the angel paused to clear his throat, “At the time, I was in charge of leading a garrison of angels into battle. Of course, the enemy knew we were on our way and had prepared for our arrival, so we were met with retaliation as soon as we set foot in their territory,” Cas spoke, his eyes flickering away.

Dean was right. Cas's low voice was as calming as a lullaby, making the man's heart and lungs ease at the sound. Dean kept listening, watching Cas's face shift with emotion he told his story.

“I slaughtered countless demons. Anyone that dared to stand in my way was destroyed instantly... But many of my brothers and sisters were lost in the sea of war as well,” he said, more quietly, “I know my father created our kind to be void of all emotion, but their voices still haunt me to this day. I was their leader, and some of them were calling my name with their last breaths...”

Pain was clear on Cas's face as he spoke, making Dean's heart ache for him. But peace came back to his eyes, when he looked down at Dean.

“I had to stick to the mission as my father instructed,” Cas explained, “The task to make it through hell was vital. I could not aid my siblings when there was something more urgent to accomplish.”

Dean swallowed harshly. It was hard not to get upset at Cas's words. How dare Cas's father make him go through all of that shit and be burdened with it for the rest of his life...

“It was a terrible ordeal,” the angel continued, letting his hand pause to rest in the middle of Dean's chest, “and one that I'll never be able to forget. But, no matter how horrific the battle was, I did what was asked of me. Because I had to.”

“Bullshit,” Dean spat.

Cas looked down at him instantly, his blue eyes clouding with confusion. Dean could feel his own heart racing again. It pissed him off to remember how Cas used to blindly follow orders. Cas didn't have to let his siblings die and live with all this unnecessary guilt. But the poor guy thought he had to, just because his father told him to.

“You always have a choice, Cas,” Dean reminded.

“I know, Dean,” Cas said quietly, “and I _did_ choose to do it. So many times, I could have turned back. But I chose to press on. I chose to keep fighting.”

“Why?” Dean asked, stunned and angered at the same time, “You watched your brothers and sisters burn to death and now you live with the memory of their screams. You _chose_ that, Cas? What the hell was it all for? What could possibly be worth all of that?!”

Cas gulped and pressed his hand firmly against the cavity of Dean's chest. The next word hummed out of his mouth like sound of gentle rain.

“You.”

Dean blinked against Cas's intense stare, feeling confused.

“What?” he mumbled.

“Dean,” the angel said softly, sliding his hand over to clutch the scar on Dean's arm, “This is the story of how I rescued you from hell. I chose to fight for _you_.”

Dean's limbs felt numb all of the sudden. His heart was hammering hard against his chest, making Cas's hand vibrate with the brutal thumps. Damn. He forgotten what it felt like to be worth something; to feel important enough to be fought for. But now, Cas was giving him a powerful reminder. And it felt damn good. Again, Dean got lost in the angel's giant blue eyes, feeling like his breath was stolen from his lungs.

For the first time in a long time, Dean thought that maybe he really _was_ worth something. And maybe John Winchester's opinion really didn't matter. Because in Cas's world, Dean was the sea, and the sky, and the sun, and the moon, and the stars... To Cas, Dean meant everything.

Feeling like a weight had lifted off of him, Dean reached up to pull Cas against him again. He clung to Cas's bare body like it was a life raft, filling his lungs with the soothing scent of his soft hair. Dean wished that he could somehow show Cas that he felt the same way; that Cas was everything to him, too.

“You... I...” Dean struggled to find the words to say as tears pressed at the back of his eyes, but they just weren't coming out, “... Cas...”

“Dean, you don't have to say it,” Cas whispered quietly, laying Dean back on the soft rug, “I already know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although we will probably never know for sure exactly how Cas rescued Dean from hell, I can guarantee without a doubt that Cas chose to keep fighting to save the righteous man no matter what happened. Not just because he was told to, but because he believed in him. Even before they officially met. ;) I hope you all enjoyed the emotional fluff, because there is more to come soon. :) Thank you guys so much for all your support and encouragement! I love every single one of you! <3 The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	6. Chapter 6

“Dean.”

Dean rolled his head toward the sound of Cas's voice, though his eyes were still closed. He yawned and reached his arms up over his head to stretch his stiff back against the hard floor. Sleep was still heavy over him, but he tried to force himself awake. Because he was fully aware that _Cas_ was talking; breathing his name like gentle a wisp of smoke.

“Dean.”

After hearing his name again, Dean commanded his eyes to blink open. He strained to focus his sight toward the direction of Cas's voice. The angel was crouching down next to him on the floor, fully dressed, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Dean stared at Cas for a second, searching along his suit, tie, and trench coat. Wait, why was Cas dressed? Weren't they laying naked together? Hadn't the fireplace been going while they screwed each other senseless on the rug? And wasn't there a brief chick-flick moment between them or something?

“H – Hey,” Dean mumbled, feeling a weird rush of chemicals.

Looking at Cas's pretty face reminded Dean of the last thing that happened just before he fell asleep. He remembered that Cas's story made him feel like he was worth something. Just thinking about it again gave Dean goosebumps. He felt like a shy schoolboy all of the sudden, staring up at his crush with overflowing buckets of puppy love. Dean could feel heat rising in his cheeks as a goofy grin spread over his mouth. Man, it was so nice to see the precious bastard before anything else.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas smiled back, apparently noticing Dean's goo-goo eyes.

“What happened?” Dean asked, sitting up to see that he was dressed too, “I thought we were naked. And, uh, having a moment.”

Cas's head tilted ever so slightly. He must have forgotten about the story he told; about rescuing Dean from hell. The angel just blinked, flashing those big sapphires with wonder.

“A moment? You must be referring to last night,” he said, smiling a little, “You fell asleep, Dean. So I clothed you and let you rest. But now, it's daylight and -” Cas paused to glance toward the other side of the study, “... and Bobby has just arrived.”

Oh, shit. _Shit_. Dean's good feeling was gone instantly. The blood that had been raising to heat his face made a sudden u-turn and drained away to leave him pale. Oh God, he'd forgotten about Bobby! How the hell could he forget about that damn conversation with Bobby?! Dean's heart was suddenly pounding against his ribs.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean grumbled, climbing to his feet.

Thankfully, no one was in the study or the kitchen beyond the archway. It was still only Dean and Cas in the immediate area. The man glanced all around, feeling panic rising in him like water filling up a sinking boat. Shit. He hadn't even planned out what he was going to say to the guy. He had been so wrapped up with thoughts of his dead father lately – freaking out about what his hypothetical reaction _might_ be – that everything else was pushed aside.

Everything except Cas.

Dean brought his eyes to rest on the angel's studious face next to him. He took a few breaths and used the mere sight of Cas to calm himself. Dean's angel was still here; still standing right in front of him, even after Dean tried to push him away so many times. Dean reached out and tugged on Cas's hand so that he could get a grip on something real. Cas never worried about shit like this, did he? Opinions of others didn't matter to him. Maybe it was time Dean learned to feel the same way.

“Where is he?” Dean asked.

Just as Cas opened his mouth to speak, the backdoor creaked open. The sound wafted through the kitchen to interrupt their conversation. Heavy footsteps were making their way inside the house, accompanied by the clinking of keys. Dean released Cas's hand and took a step back, starring at the open kitchen with wide eyes. Shit. Any minute now, Bobby was gonna walk toward that table and see Dean standing there. And then that look was gonna cross his face – maybe one similar to what he pictured John wearing – and then things would never be the same between them.

Dean's heart pounded in his ears as he watched the older man walk into view. Bobby looked the same as he always did; plaid shirt, vest jacket, torn jeans, faded hat, untrimmed beard... He was the same old Bobby. And his flat expression didn't change in the least, when he glanced over to see Dean standing in his study with Cas. The guy opened his mouth to speak and Dean internally braced for impact. ' _Here it comes,_ ' Dean thought, ' _He's gonna spit fire..._ '

“Did you drink my last cold beer, kid?” Bobby asked, glancing down to shuffle through some mail in his hands.

Dean blinked. Last cold beer? Huh. Dean wasn't expecting to hear that at all. What, no snarky remarks about kissing a dude? No 'Get the hell out of my house, you damn fudge-packer'? Nothing? Dean shifted a little on his feet as he tried to come up with the proper response.

“Uh... Y – Yeah..?” he forced out.

“Well, then you're footin' the bill for the next six pack,” Bobby mumbled, tossing a warning glance at Dean.

Dean was at a total loss for words. Bobby was supposed to be yelling at him; calling him out on all the dude-on-dude action he had been having with Cas. But he wasn't. Bobby was just going through his mail like nothing had ever changed. Was it possible that maybe he didn't know about Dean and Cas having sex?

Cas stepped closer to Dean in order to peek into the kitchen. Bobby glanced up to see him – and a strange paleness came over his aged features. The old man looked away quickly, raising his hand up to slightly shield his face with his mail. Cas, too, seemed to become embarrassed. The angel's cheeks flushed as he looked away, tilting his head down in shame. Dean glanced between the two of them, trying to figure out what the hell he'd missed.

“Cas,” Bobby said gruffly, turning his back toward him, “Did you at least use the front door this time?”

“I – I did,” Cas answered lowly.

After studying the angel's behavior for a second, Dean finally realized what was going on. This was the first time Cas and Bobby had seen each other since Cas had accidentally popped in on Bobby while the dude was in his tighty-whiteies. Dean and Cas met eyes and the man could see the giant amount of discomfort the angel was in. Dean could only imagine how terrible the sight must have been, for both him and Bobby. Dean was suddenly trying to hold down a laugh, remembering how grossed out Cas was. Poor bastard.

“I, um, I think I should wait outside, Dean,” Cas whispered.

The smile fled from Dean's lips immediately. He didn't want Cas to go. But, as much as he selfishly wanted Cas to stay, deep down Dean knew that it was probably for the best. Just like with Sam, it was easier for Dean to talk to Bobby when he was alone with him. The truth just seemed to slide out better that way. Dean nodded a little as he watched Cas back away.

“Okay,” he replied quietly.

It felt like there should have been more words to go along with 'okay.' Cas was getting ready to leave him alone with Bobby. Shouldn't there be something else tacked onto the end of that sentence? As the silence set in among the room, the angel eventually whooshed away. Dean took a deep breath to prepare himself before turning to face Bobby.

The old man was standing at the kitchen counter now, making himself a cup of coffee. The smell of fresh coffee grounds struck Dean as he forced his way into the bright room. The morning sun was making the kitchen glow; warming it up to make it feel like home. Dean carefully brought himself to sit at the table as he eyed Bobby's back. God, it was eating him alive not knowing whether the old man knew about him and Cas or not.

“Want some coffee, boy?” Bobby mumbled.

“Uh, no,” Dean answered, “... Thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

After picking up his steaming mug, Bobby made his own way over to the table. He took the chair directly across from Dean; making it impossible to look anywhere but at him. Dean's heart was picking up speed again as he searched along Bobby's familiar face. Did he know? Did he _not_ know? Was the guy just in denial of the whole thing? Was he judging Dean in his mind? Secretly disappointed? Wanting to kick him out? Trying to play it off?

“Just let me have it,” Dean suddenly blurted, unable to cope with his inner monologue anymore.

Bobby's thick eyebrows came together under the bill of his worn hat.

“Have what?” he asked, looking lost.

“Don't give me that crap,” Dean almost growled, feeling terror rearing its ugly head inside him, “I know you and Sam had a bet going or whatever. I know that you know about... about me and Cas...”

Bobby stopped, mid-sip, and blinked strangely at Dean. And somehow, Dean knew that this was it. He just knew that this was the moment that things were going to be altered forever between him and the only true father-figure he'd ever had. Dean paused for Bobby to speak, but the guy didn't say a word. He just sat his mug on the table and stared at Dean, like he was waiting for Dean to keep going. The longer the silence stretched on, the more fear buzzed in Dean's gut like a swarm of wasps.

“Go on,” Dean spat, ready for the fight to start, “Go ahead and tell me how disappointed you are.”

“What?” Bobby said.

“Go on and start yelling at me. Start giving me hell for even thinking about going against everything you ever taught me -”

“Taught you?”

“ - to be with an angel who happens to be a guy. I get it, man. I get how terrible it looks on the outside, but you have no idea how _damn good_ it is on the inside, okay?!”

“Dean -”

“I didn't do this to make you mad,” Dean kept going, words flowing out of him like water rushing from a broken dam, “I didn't do this just to go against your rules. I know this wasn't the path you paved for me to follow. You wanted a perfect son – I know because you tried to beat it into me. But I'm with Cas because he makes me _happy_ , alright? He makes me feel like I'm _worth_ something, which is more than you ever did! So, you can take your unjust opinion and shove it up your ass, _Dad!_ ”

After the last syllable rang against the walls, silence rested heavily in the room. Dean panted for what felt like a long time before he realized what he had just said. Bobby may have been the one sitting right in front of him – wearing a look of shock with his jaw on the floor – but Dean's speech was truly meant for the man that had recently taken up unwanted vacancy in his head.

It was meant for John Winchester.

Dean's defenses began to crumble as he stared at the look of surprise and pain on Bobby's face. Ah, hell. Dean didn't mean to yell at Bobby like that. Tears were pressing at the back of Dean's eyes as he tried to calm his breathing. He tore his stare away to hang his head and bury his face in his hand.

“I'm... I'm sorry, Bobby,” he uttered, fighting to keep the liquid behind his eyelids.

“Jesus, kid,” Bobby breathed, sounding worried, “Your father sure did a shitty job.”

A dark chuckle croaked from Dean's throat from behind his hand. Yeah, John did do a shitty job...

The kitchen door suddenly opened to the right.

Dean instantly sat up and snapped his blurry eyes toward it, trying to act as normal as possible, in case it was Cas. He didn't want to worry the angel anymore. But it was Sam who stumbled into the room. The kid's long hair was a mess on his head, his clothes were disheveled, and he reeked of alcohol. There was some weird necklace hanging loosely around his neck too. But upon looking around, Sam's goofy grin disappeared. Apparently, he realized that the air in the room was full of tension. Sammy cleared his throat as he leaned against the counter and glanced between Dean and Bobby.

“What's going on?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“What's going on with you?” Dean rebutted, seeing that his brother had apparently had a busy night, “Is that a _candy_ necklace?”

Sam's eyes dropped to the string around his neck and his face tinted with embarrassment. He nervously reached up to fumble his fingers around it – and accidentally ripped the thing off. Tiny beads of candy tumbled to the floor and rolled all over the kitchen. In a rush of nervous movements, Sam quickly knelt down to catch them all.

“Er, sorry, Bobby,” he said, getting in his knees to scrape the candy into a pile.

Dean looked forward to watch Bobby roll his eyes. The poor guy was obviously at a loss with Sam and Dean's weird behavior. But, while Sam quietly raked candy off the floor next to them, Bobby set his eyes back on Dean's. Seriousness returned to the kitchen as the two men stared at each other across the table.

“You listen here, son, and you listen good,” Bobby began, sounding stern and comforting all at once, “I might not be your daddy, but I care for you the same now as I always have. It doesn't matter to me, whether you're with Cas or not. Who you choose to pork is your own damn business,” he paused again to point toward the kitchen door, “That door is always gonna be open for you if you ever need anything from me. And I'm always gonna answer the phone when you call.”

Dean's heart pounded in his chest, making more tears ooze from the corners of his eyes. Damn. That was the most powerful thing Dean had heard Bobby ever say...

“All I ask is that you make Cas knock before barging in here,” Bobby added, looking like he was fighting a shudder, “That angel's already seen enough.”

An actual smile spread across Dean's face. He had been so damn worried about John Winchester that he forgot just how awesome Bobby was. If anyone had earned the right be be called 'dad,' it was him.

“Thank you,” Dean nodded.

“Were you worried about Dad, or something?”

Dean looked up at his little brother near the counter, who had finished gathering his candy and stood back up. Sam looked genuinely concerned, staring down at Dean with a tiny bit of curiosity. Dean took a deep breath. As much as he hated to admit it, he forced a nod.

“Yeah. I know he's dead and everything, Sammy. But he still gets to me,” Dean answered.

Sam played with the candy pieces in his hand for a second, rolling them around. The kid looked like he was wanting to say something, but holding it back. And Dean hated when he did that. He hated when Sam always stopped himself from saying what was on his mind.

“Say it, Sam,” Dean urged, wanting to hear it.

His little brother smirked again before meeting eyes with Dean.

“Well, it's just,” he paused to take a small breath, “... Did you ever stop to think about what _mom_ would say?”

There was another brief silence as the Winchester brothers stared at each other with understanding. Dean knew what Sam was thinking, because he was thinking the same thing too. They both knew what their mother's opinion would be... because she had already said it a million times...

_Angels are watching over you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> John Winchester was never father of the year. And I think we all know why. Luckily, Dean and Sam have Bobby, and that's really all that matters. ;) Oh, and as for Sam's wild night out? I think you guys pretty much know who he spent it with. ;) And guess what? You get to read all about it soon! :D But for now, Dean and Cas have a few more things to sort out. Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I'm so glad that you enjoy the feels with your fluff. <3 The next chapter will be out soon! :)


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel took another deep breath as he shifted against the Impala with worry. His eyes were set on Bobby's front door, beyond which Dean was indulging in an personal conversation with Bobby himself. Of course, Castiel was more than curious to know how things were going. The angel wondered if Bobby was accepting of their relationship, and if Dean was still emotionally stable. Before leaving the two men to talk, Cas was able to see the twinge of fear in Dean's eyes. And it worried him to think that Dean might be having a difficult time revealing their private relationship to Bobby.

The idea of eavesdropping crossed Castiel's mind, but he dismissed it. There was no need to interfere with this conversation, was there? It was _Bobby_ , after all. What would he do in the worst case scenario? The man would probably ask Dean to leave... and never return. Castiel gulped, blinking at the door with sudden concern. If Bobby was to discommend Dean in such an objecting way simply because of who he chose to fornicate with, it would utterly break Dean's stout heart...

With the anxiety of this realization resting heavily on Castiel's shoulders, the angel began to edge his way toward the door. He could not allow such a terrible fate to fall on Dean; not after witnessing him acting so upset lately. Cas couldn't stand the thought of Dean remaining in a perpetual state of unhappiness. The same terrible kind of unhappiness that consumed him in the alley...

But Bobby's door was opening before Castiel could even walk away from the Impala. Dean made his way outside and glanced around as he shut the door behind him. The angel appraised the man instantly, studying his ginger body movements and worn facial expression. When his green eyes met Castiel's from a few yards away, a small smile stretched across his lips.

But even from the slight distance, Cas could see the fragments of red veins etched across the whites of Dean's eyes. The emerald irises were starkly green in contrast to the faded red around them, and there was only one explanation for this. Tears had recently escaped Dean's eyes.

Castiel flew to Dean, closing the distance between them in less than a second. Dean blinked in surprise at his unexpected close proximity. Anger was suddenly flowing through the angel as he reached up to touch the side of Dean's damp face. What did Bobby do to make Dean so upset? What icy words did the man speak that would cause Dean to shed tears? Was Bobby unaware of the sheer power he held over Dean's emotions?

“What happened? Did he hurt you, Dean?” Castiel asked through clinched jaws.

For a brief moment, the angel was prepared to burst inside the house and release his unyielding wrath over Bobby Singer. Cas was ready to use any amount of force necessary to insure that no one – not even those closest to him – could get away with causing Dean so much pain. But then, Dean was shaking his head; nuzzling deeper against Castiel's hand as he disagreed.

“No,” Dean answered, still smiling, “He's... He's actually okay with it.”

Castiel searched Dean's face to make sure he was being honest. The angel knew how the man tended to hide the truth sometimes. But Cas could see that Dean was being perfectly genuine, now. Bobby must have truly been okay with it. Castiel felt a little guilty at his own internal overreaction.

“Then, why were you crying?” the angel asked, caressing the moist corner of Dean's eye with his thumb.

Dean took a slight breath. His eyes left Cas's to glance around, as if he was taking a moment to ponder something silently, before reuniting their stare.

“Hey, uh... Can you do me a favor?” Dean asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Name it,” Castiel replied.

“I want you to think of the most beautiful place you've ever seen,” he spoke softly, reaching up to clutch the front of the angel's coat.

Castiel paused to do as Dean instructed. He pictured the whole of the earth in his mind and quickly assessed the specific location that he found to be the most aesthetically pleasing. It was a glorious sight to behold, even in his mind's eye.

“I am,” Cas nodded.

“Good,” Dean smirked, “Now take us there.”

Without hesitation, Castiel carefully wrapped his arms around Dean and flew him away. They both landed in the hot sand; their shoes sliding atop the shifting grains. A warm breeze was suddenly tossing around their clothes and hair, filling the air with the savory smell and taste of salt. Crashing waves and the distant call of birds gave music to the setting as the warm sun shined down on them.

Dean blinked against the harsh light, raising his hand up to shield his eyes from the unforgiving sun. Castiel watched the man take in the general splendor of the place, secretly pleased to see the awe growing in his green eyes. The magnificent, sparkling ocean was laid out before them as they stood so tiny on the shore. Perhaps that was the reason Castiel favored this place above all others; because the sheer enormity of the majestic ocean made him feel so very small. And reminded him that even the smallest of things are not without purpose.

After taking in the view of the ocean, Castiel brought his eyes back to Dean. The air was still breezing across his clothes and ruffling his hair, but the man didn't seem to mind. Dean was staring blankly at the distant waves and a nearly unreadable expression was painted on his face. Was he happy? Sad? Feeling lost? The angel carefully reached out and clasped the man's hand with his own. A new smile was trying to return to Dean's mouth.

“It's a little cliché,” Dean said over the roar of the waves, “... But as beautiful as hell.”

“Hell is not beautiful, Dean,” Castiel reminded, tightening his fingers.

The man chuckled a bit, before turning to the side and tugging Cas along. He began to mosey down the beach, wearing a lovely smile.

“It's a figure of speech, Mighty Mouse,” Dean mumbled, taking slow and firm steps.

Castiel could sense that Dean was meaning to say something more; preparing his words as he walked along. His fingers were drawn tight against Cas's and his eyes were set on the sand. Perhaps Dean thought the change of setting would prove useful in helping to coax out the words. Castiel was still patiently waiting for his question to be answered. He wanted to know why Dean was upset.

“Cas,” Dean said quietly, walking even slower, “I'm sorry I've been acting so damn pissy lately.”

“There is no need to apologize, Dean,” Castiel tried to stop him from explaining.

“No, there is,” Dean continued, his freckled face glowing in the warm sun, “That was a dick move, what I did to you in the alley. But, you've gotta know I didn't mean it. I was just...”

The man's feet eased to a stop in the sand. He carefully shifted to face Castiel, bringing their eyes together again. The angel became lost the green orbs as they stared so powerfully into him.

“I was fighting with my old man,” Dean breathed, sounding like a heavy burden had been lifted from him.

Castiel was a bit confused.

“Your... Father?” the angel assumed, “But, he is deceased.”

“It doesn't matter,” Dean went on, the sound of ocean waves accompanying his voice, “I know what what he'd do if he ever found out about us. He'd go the hell off, Cas. He would be so damn furious about me having sex with you. He'd beat the living shit out of me -”

“No,” Castiel spat instantly, his jaw clinching shut at the thought of Dean being abused, “He wouldn't. Because _I_ would _never_ allow it. He wouldn't dare lay a finger on you in my presence.”

A smile graced Dean's face once again, and a slight pink color rose beneath his freckles.

“That's, uh, nice to know,” he hummed, appearing bashful, “I forgot I had an angelic body guard. You gonna add that one to your resume?”

“I'll be anything you need me to be, Dean,” Castiel replied with seriousness.

For a moment after Cas's statement was spoken, the two of them stood by the ocean in silence. The waves broke on the shore next to them while they stared into each others' eyes. It was moments like this that Castiel found to be the most satisfying; the ones in which words were unnecessary. Where Castiel could observe Dean's thoughts and feelings just by peering into his emerald eyes. There was a gigantic notion growing in them as time stretched on. Something was pressing on Dean's lips. Words demanding to be spoken...

* * *

There it was again; that intoxicating sensation pumping through Dean's body. He was practically drowning in the oceans of Cas's eyes, being hypnotized by the angel's stare. Dean was subconsciously waiting for John Winchester to barge into his head and ruin the moment again – but he didn't. He was finally gone. Now, it was just Dean and Cas, like it ought to be. And Dean was finally able to open his heart and say -

“I love you, Cas,” Dean muttered, letting his fingers curl tighter around the angel's.

Dean enjoyed the tiny look of surprise that lit up Cas's face. The angel blinked a few times before leaning forward. Dean welcomed the angel's lips as they came crashing against his own. This moment was like something out of movie – with the waves crashing nearby and the wind swirling around them while they kissed. For a second, Dean thought maybe Cas had set it up that way. But, how could he? Maybe it was just 'right place at the right time.'

Or, maybe... It was _Cas's_ father, giving them his blessing...

“I love you, too, Dean,” Cas pulled away to say.

Dean felt like a balloon on the verge of bursting; filled up with so much emotion that he was going to explode. He tugged Cas even closer to press their fronts together in the hot sun. Dean felt so good all of the sudden. All of the shit that had been plaguing him for the past few days was gone. It didn't matter what his dad might think – hell, it didn't matter what _anyone_ thought – because he loved Cas. And everyone else could go screw themselves.

“Say it again,” Dean requested with a grin, loving the tingle it gave is lower stomach.

“I love you,” Cas repeated with a smile, wrapping his arms around Dean's back.

Dean smiled and took a deep breath of ocean air. He didn't get to hear those words spoken to him very often and they sounded so nice, especially in Cas's low voice. Dean rested his forehead against Cas's and met his eyes with warm admiration.

“One more time,” he asked.

Cas smirked and ran his hands up Dean's back.

“I love you, Dean,” he said again, this time in a whisper.

Feeling the urge to giggle like a little kid, Dean wrapped the angel into a hug, letting his lips fall against Cas's neck. He peppered the guy's whole neck and collarbone in kisses, holding him tight and feeling his heartbeat. It felt so damn good to give and receive affection like this. Why the hell hadn't he done this shit before?

Dean's phone rang from his pocket.

The man raised his head to meet the angel's eyes with equal confusion. Dean still had cell service here? How? It occurred to him, as he reached to answer the phone, that he didn't even know where 'here' was. After seeing that the caller was Sam, Dean pressed the 'talk' button and held the phone to his ear.

“Uh... Hello?” he mumbled, kinda bummed about being interrupted.

“Are you okay, Dean?” Sam asked, sounding worried, “You kinda just disappeared.”

“Yeah, I'm good. I'm with Cas,” Dean hinted, hoping Sam would catch the drift.

“Oh, er, am I interrupting something?” Sammy mumbled.

“Yes,” Cas answered, leaning forward to speak into the phone near Dean's mouth, “You are.”

Dean smirked. He knew Cas was listening to the conversation. Sam made a strange noise on the other end of the line before sighing.

“Sorry,” Sam said, “Just, uh, come back whenever you're ready I guess. I'm waiting in the car.”

The line went dead after Sam's statement and Dean pulled the phone away to stuff it in his pocket. It was nice that Sam was understanding, but Dean didn't want to keep the poor guy waiting for them. Dean glanced around at the awesome scenery again, taking in the magnitude of salt water shimmering in the sun.

“It's too bad,” he sighed, “I was hoping to try some sex on the beach.”

“We still can if you want, Dean,” Cas offered, reaching down to grope Dean's crotch for good measure.

Dean grunted a little at the feeling of Cas's tight hand, his smirk growing. Cas was grabbing the whole length of his dick through the fabric and tugging on it teasingly. God, Cas made it so damn tempting... but Dean didn't want to abandon his little brother just to get laid.

“Maybe next time,” Dean said, taking hold of the front of Cas's coat again.

“As you wish,” the angel, nodded.

With a sudden whoosh, the warm beach and the salty breeze were gone. Dean and Cas were standing in front of Bobby's house again, with the Impala just a few feet away. There was overcast weather here, no sunshine or warm air. Reality was thick in this part of the world. The stark difference reminded Dean of waking up from an amazing dream to be reacquainted with his usual boring life.

Dean took a deep breath before taking Cas by the hand and leading him to the car. Things were a little bleak here, but at least Dean still had the best part of his dream with him. The man smiled as he looked over his shoulder at Cas. Even in without the dramatic backdrop of the ocean, Cas was still so damn dreamy. Dean paused by the car to kiss his angel, for once not caring if eyes were watching. To hell with everyone else. He was gonna kiss Cas anytime and anywhere he wanted. Cas smiled after he pulled away.

“I'm so glad you're... feeling better,” the angel said carefully.

“Me too,” Dean agreed.

He watched Cas get into the backseat before climbing into the front seat for himself. Sam, who was already in the passenger seat, glanced between them as they got in – and he was playing with something laying on his chest. Dean took the time to see what it was, and was surprised to find the candy necklace all patched up and back on him.

“Did you... re-string that?” Dean asked his little brother, lost.

Sam glanced down at the candy necklace that hung loosely around his neck, and a faint blush rose in his cheeks as his eyes flickered away.

“Uh, yeah,” Sam mumbled, seeming to be holding down at goofy grin.

Dean took a deep breath. He wondered why Sam looked so... well, _giddy_. Sammy never acted so abnormally happy like this. What was his deal? As Dean filled his lungs, he could smell a pungent stink in the air radiating from Sam. Dean leaned over and gave his little brother a sniff. Ew, the dude reeked.

“Ugh, Sam,” Dean said, raising an eyebrow, “Did you play with a dog last night? You smell like wet fur.”

The red on Sam's cheeks deepened as he faced forward. He rolled his eyes in annoyance as he stuffed the necklace inside his shirt.

“I had a long night, okay?” he said, trying to gloss it over, “Can we just go?”

Rolling his own eyes, Dean reached forward and cranked the engine. The Impala started right up with a fierce growl, turning on the radio as she roared to life. Dean braced his arm over the back of his seat as he turned around to back up. Cas was sitting there, smiling sweetly at him – and the song playing in the car suddenly caught Dean's attention. It was one he knew like the back of his hand. He could point the damn thing out from hearing just a few notes of it.

_Hey Jude._

Dean gulped as he stared at Cas perched behind him. Sam had been right. Dean hadn't taken the time out to think about what his mom would say about his relationship with Cas. And, apparently, he didn't need to. Because she was there right now; telling him not to carry the world on his shoulders and to let go of the pain. All she wanted was for him to be happy, and it didn't matter who he was happy with.

As the song faded into all those 'nah's, Dean grabbed a handful of the front of Cas's clothes and yanked him forward. Their lips smashed together again, reviving the familiar taste of lust and affection. God, was Dean ever going to get over how good it felt to kiss Cas? He silently prayed that the whiskey would keep flowing though his veins and his heart would just keep growing to accommodate all this emotion. Because _this_ was what made him happy. It was always _Cas_.

“Ugh!” Sam groaned, trying to shrink against his door, “Do you have to suck face while I'm sitting right here?!”

Dean ignored his brother for the moment, losing himself inside Cas's kiss. No one was going to ruin any more of their moments. No one was ever going to take away the happiness he felt with Cas. It belonged to Dean, and he was going to defend it with everything he had. No more feeling guilty. No more worry about other peoples opinions. No more fear.

Just love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of 'Affection.' ;) I kind of stole that whole 'saying I love you over and over' thing from Pride and Prejudice. (You know, at the end? Where he keeps saying " _Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy_ " Because it makes her so happy? Yeah that. lol.) :) I hope you guys have enjoyed the third part of the 'Solo' series, even with all the feels and drama. And I very much appreciate every single comment and kudo you all have given this whole story. Thank you so much! :D
> 
> Unfortunately, I have to pause the updates on this story for now. (I'm so sorry!) :( I promise that I will finish posting the revised versions of parts 4, 5, and 6 here as well, but I have to go back to FF.net for a while to work on a third part of an mpreg story I started at the beginning of the year. (I live a complicated fanfic life. lol.) However, If you find yourself unable to wait for the updated versions and want to finish the story now, you can head over to my page on FF.net and read until your heart's content! :) Part 4 is called "Fantasies", Part 5 is called "Family", and part 6 is called "Distance". ;) Here is a link to my page:
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2406331/Snailhair101
> 
>  **But you should probably be aware** that, from here on out, Sabriel will be included in the story. It won't be the main focus, (Because Sam and Gabriel have their own companion version,) but Sam and Gabriel will be reoccurring characters who are in a relationship and appear in the story. I hope that makes sense. And even if you do not ship Sabriel, I hope you will give it a chance for me. Because it's really sweet and funny, and I think you'll like it. Plus I love you!  <3 :) Thank you all so much for being so understanding and supportive and encouraging and kind! You are the best readers anyone could ever ask for! *Hugs all around* I'll be seeing you guys soon! Have a wonderful Thanksgiving! <3


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